


The Touch of a Dragon

by roughknuckles, Saklani



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 71,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24954238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roughknuckles/pseuds/roughknuckles, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saklani/pseuds/Saklani
Summary: Balinor is king of the Dragonlords and has conquered Uther in battle. In order for there to be peace in Camelot, marriage is arranged between Merlin and Arthur.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

Prince Arthur Pendragon tugged at the high collar of his fancy tunic and tried to pretend that the only thing he felt was discomfort, when in truth he could barely swallow down mind-numbing fear. In a moment, he would stride into the main hall of the castle and attend a wedding ... his wedding, to the first person who had bested him on a battlefield since he was a mid-teenager. And bested was not even a fair word ... Merlin Emrys had humiliated him, his magic countering with ease anything Arthur could throw at it. Arthur remained alive only at the younger man’s galling mercy. Better to have died then and there …

But no ... Arthur still had his duty to Camelot and her people, now under rule of the Dragonlords.

By all that was sacred, Arthur wished his father had just once heeded the advice of Gaius and his older counselors. Amazing enough that the Dragonlords had held off their fury when Uther began his Great Purge and killed or drove out every magical being he could find and destroyed every artifact. But no, he had to go further and attempt to slay the Great Dragon, as well. And there, Balinor, King of the Dragonlords cried, ‘Hold, enough,’ and declared war on Camelot. With no sorcerers of her own and facing an army of warriors, sorcerers and mythic beasts, it had been less of a war and more of a trouncing. Many good people had lost their lives and for what?

He blew out a low, tremulous breath, glad his manservant, George, was too proper to even note, let alone comment, on the action. Arthur felt twain in two, wanting neither to go forward or back. But there was only forward, so he lifted his chin and entered the Great (if somewhat battered) Hall when he was called (after Merlin Emrys, herein and forevermore after Merlin Emrys), forcing himself to stand and march erect between the forces of Balinor on one side and the nobles of Camelot on the other. Down a long path of fine stone to where Geoffrey awaited him, with both kings (Balinor tall and strong and fearsome in his robes and his father somehow diminished even in his finery) standing just behind and on either side. 

And just in front of Geoffrey, his husband-to-be, tall, but lanky, all gawky limbs, but power burning in every inch of him. Deep blue eyes that could in a flash turn gold and kill a man in any number of gruesome ways, hidden behind high cheekbones and a shank of hair that refused to be tamed even for his wedding. A deceptively innocent appearing man, whose smile Arthur had seen but a few times (and never directed at him), but knew could rival the sun. Another potent weapon.

He drew even with Merlin and dropped a low, humble bow to Balinor and then to Merlin, before acknowledging his father with the slightest gesture.  
  
Though this was a wedding, the whole of Camelot was silent. There were no cheerful bells or trumpets, or cheering in the street. For many this was a somber occasion, offering an uncertain future. But for a few who knew how to read the signs, this was the foundation of something good.  
  
“Prince Arthur.” Merlin acknowledged with a gentleness no one else would show today. And though he did not smile, there was kindness in his eyes as he took up Arthur’s hand. His touch was warm and secure. And as powerful a sorcerer as he was, Merlin held no malice for Arthur or this arrangement. This was to be a day of peace, if nothing else.  
  
“Prince Merlin,” Arthur answered, keeping his voice as level and calm as possible. He straightened to his full height and turned to face Geoffrey, curling his fingers in answer around Merlin’s.

Geoffrey of Monmouth nodded to both men and without further ado, began the ceremony, “Kneel, men, before your Kings. As you have bravely and solemnly come to this place today, know that by all here present and your own actions, you have signified unto our community that you are worthy and ready to bind your lives and rule together the joined kingdoms of Camelot and Ealdor. Do you so agree, Prince Merlin of Ealdor?”

Merlin had knelt slowly, mirroring his descent along with Arthur so that neither pulled the other down. He listened attentively to Geoffrey, before turning his focus entirely on Arthur. Not knowing each other, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but even so, Merlin could see that Arthur was still shaken by his defeat and was possibly even scared about what was to come.

“I do, swear.” Merlin said, speaking his vow to Arthur, wishing to convey his sincerity. Camelot and Ealdor would be one, from this day forward, Merlin would love the people of Camelot as he loved his own people. Which meant he expected Arthur to do the same.

“And you, Prince Arthur of Camelot, do you also solemnly swear?” Geoffrey asked, his warm eyes taking in his prince, who looked so pale, yet regal, kneeling before him and all the world.

Arthur felt Merlin’s eyes on him and sensed the words were directed toward him, and tried to reciprocate, tried to be equal to the moment, but felt he fell short as he repeated the words, “I do solemnly swear.”

“Good people! We are gathered together in this, to join this Man, Merlin Emrys, and this Man, Arthur Pendragon, in a binding of life; it is an honorable estate, into which these two persons present come now to be bound. If any here know why they may not be bound, speak now or keep silent for time immemorial.” 

Arthur glanced up at both Kings, wondering if either might speak.

Was Arthur looking for a way out of this? Appealing to his father to speak? Merlin could not say what was in the mind of his husband, but did not allow his own gaze to shift away to anyone else. And anyway, Arthur Pendragon was pleasing enough to look at, no distraction was needed.

Balinor remained silent, though looked to Uther for even a hint of objection. He would not hesitate to call upon Kilgharrah to lay waste to the city, should Uther dishonor this marriage and union of their kingdoms. This peace existed on the edge of a knife already.

Uther kept his own council, body rigid in place, held still with pride and the knowledge of Camelot’s weakness in the face of her enemies. Sacrificing his son was the only way out of this horrible predicament, though he still shied from the true cause of this failing.

As none spoke or moved (or barely even breathed), Geoffrey continued, “Merlin Emrys, wilt thou have Arthur Pendragon to be thy wedded partner, to live together in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

“I do, swear.” Merlin said as a thin thread of golden magic began to weave around their joined hands. His vow, bound by his words and in magic, which could not be undone.

For the nobles with the best view of the wedding ceremony, it was a shock to see magic so openly displayed. A sight that some perhaps had never before experience with their own eyes. But this would be the way of things now. Magic had entered into Camelot and it would remain visible from now on.

Arthur heard the murmur from Camelot’s side somewhere dimly in his hindbrain, eyes riveted on the tendril of power twining around their hands. His fear tightened in his throat at this blatant show of power he’d been taught was evil. 

Geoffrey, too, lost his words for a split second, having nearly forgotten himself what the casual use of magic looked like. But he rallied almost instantly and went on, “Arthur Pendragon, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded partner, to live together in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

Arthur knew the words he needed to say. He did. They swam in the back of his mind like a twirl of leaves in the wind, but all he could see was that band of thin gold power binding him forever, hear the words ‘serve and obey’ in his ears (words all were one day to have sworn to him, not him to another). And for a moment, the sharp edge of balance swayed, and he nearly bolted to his feet and plunged for freedom. But at the last, duty pulled him back again, as it had so many times before. “I so swear,” he said, sealing his fate. 

“Henceforth shall they be bond together. In symbol of this marriage, bring forth the rings.” Geoffrey nodded to the Kings.

As Arthur made his promise, the golden thread of magic slowly twisted around his wrist, binding them both to their vow, as hand-fasting was done in the way of the old religion. And while the golden thread faded from sight after a moment, the magic would remain apart of them for the rest of their lives.

Balinor unclenched his fist and produced the ring Merlin had conceived and made specifically for Arthur. Three bands, of gold, copper, and silver, impossibly interlocked to create one single ring. A symbol of unity of the Dragonlords, the Pendragons, and the world they would make together. A symbol, of the past, present, and future, all bound into one.

Taking this ring, Merlin gently manipulated Arthur’s hand and slipped the ring onto his finger.

Arthur had made no such plans, marriage so far from his mind in the past few years that it might as well have been a myth, and too shell shocked since the announcement of this marriage to have even entertained the thought of planning such a thing. He stared at the band on his finger, before looking to Uther, who had shambled forward and now held out a ring, which Arthur took without noting what it was. He slid it gracelessly on Merlin’s finger, though with enough care not to injure. 

The band he had given unknowingly to Merlin was simple in design, made in silver and adorned with a thin sliver of petrified wood and another of black meteorite. It was a gift to have been given from Uther to his son upon his ascendence to the throne (even after Uther’s death if such had been the case) and now bestowed on the one who would instead have that honor and responsibility. 

“Repeat one last time after me: With the ring, I do wed.”

Arthur closed his eyes on the whole moment and said, “With this ring, I do wed.”

“With this ring, I do wed.” Merlin said. He could sense the faint earth magic from the ring, wood and silver, and something else he was not entirely familiar with. But he found that he liked it, and was intrigued by this small mystery to his senses.

In this moment, holding each others hands, and Arthur with his eyes closed, surrendering to his fate, Merlin leaned forward and kissed his husband on the cheek. It was a show of affection and proof that he intended to keep his promise, to give Arthur comfort and love. 

Arthur’s eyes opened in surprise at the touch of lips to his cheek, unsure if he’d missed a cue or step in the celebration. But a quick glance at Geoffrey showed surprise on his face, as well, so this was an audible called by his new husband. But Arthur didn’t know exactly how to react, so the moment passed.

Geffrey’s voice rose to its highest pitch. “What Fate has joined, let no one put asunder. Rise and greet your people, Merlin and Arthur Emrys.”

Clearly the old religion and the new had their differences when it came to marriage, but Merlin would not take back the kiss. Instead he simply gave Arthur a small nod as he got to his feet first, pulling Arthur up to stand at his side and face the people, together. 

Arthur stumbled to his feet and turned to face the muted response of Camelot’s nobles and the raucous cheers of Ealdor’s warriors and fellow Dragonlords. His legs felt of watery consistency, and his stomach heaved and roiled.

Uther took two hobbling steps forward and raised his hands, calling the servants and nobles to attention. “Let the wedding feast begin!”

Instantly, a stream of efficient servants began to enter, carrying trays of every imaginable offering Camelot had. Everyone retired to their tables, Ealdor’s people being shown their respective places. 

Arthur looked to Merlin, swallowed his gorge and asked in a low voice, “Shall we be seated ... my Lord?”

For the Dragonlords, there was no shame in what Arthur and Merlin had done. It was only with the new religion, that male heirs, princes, and kings, were valued over others. So when Merlin took Arthur’s hand and held it as one would for a princess, no offence was intended. “Yes, husband.” He said, kissing the top of his hand and walking with him in hand to the head table.

Of course, for Arthur the implication was rather different and heartbreakingly clear. He was no longer the heir to the throne of Camelot. A queen might rule without a spouse, and her role was important when there was a king, but the true power was always with the king. Always. And that would be Merlin. Arthur had been and would be the last of the Pendragons. From now on, once Uther passed, another name would grace the throne. 

Still, he raised his chin, teeth gritted, and accompanied his new husband to their seats, between Balinor and Uther. He took the seat next to Balinor with a stiff bow to the King. But as the platters were brought forth, he found nothing to his appetite. Indeed, he found no appetite at all and finally grabbed a few odds and ends in desperation so as not to insult the new marriage vows.

Merlin meanwhile could barely bring himself to look at Uther, a man who had caused so much pain for his kin, and had a personal hand in their slaughter. But Uther no longer mattered, only Arthur did. And Merlin could not help but let his eyes drift over to his husband a few times, trying to get some sense of the man he was now bound to for life. 

Silence stretched awkward and unpleasant and unbearable between the four seated at the head of the table, until Arthur finally forced himself to break it. “I believe that you are both well familiar with the lands of Camelot,” he said to both Balinor and his son. 

Balinor was startled slightly. As quiet as Merlin was, Balinor was a thousand times more reserved. Regardless of his position as King of the Dragonlords. He just blinked, and stared at Merlin.

“We are familiar with some of Camelot’s lands, of course. But not all.” Merlin answered. But Arthur was brave to be the one to start the conversation, and so Merlin did his best to prompt him for more. “The forests are thick and healthy.”

“A tour of the lands may be arranged, if you desire ... my Lord,” Arthur said, cursing internally as he slipped up on titles again. “Your Highness,” he added quickly to Balinor. He farbled over words about it now being their kingdom, thinking those too bitter for the occasion (no matter how true and how much he felt them) and stumbled to, “I would know your pleasures, so they may be accommodated.”

Balinor chewed slowly, eyes fixed on Merlin. It was not in either of their nature to make others bow and scrape like this, and they both would prefer informal terms, to titles ... except tonight, for the sake of Uther Pendragon to know his place, by seeing his only son humble himself in this way.

“Thank you. I would like that very much ... in the weeks and months to come.” Merlin said, sympathetic to Arthur for having to pay for Uther’s pride.

“Just tell me when, my Lord,” Arthur said and went silent again, having no idea what to speak of. And the silence fueled his impotent anger, his hatred of all three men now around him. Balinor for his quiet power, forcing Arthur and Uther to eat crow publically, as if whipping them in war were not enough. At Merlin, for his sympathetic vibe, so much worse than open contempt and hostility would have been. But most of all, for his stupid, arrogant father, who led them to this fate, this useless end. All for a hatred he never explained, not really. And Arthur had wondered, sometimes, if magic were truly as evil and corrupting as Uther insisted. 

And there was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. He was well and truly caught. 

Uther shifted uneasily in his own chair and said with formality to Merlin, “We have changed rooms so that you will have the Royal bedchambers. I have placed new furniture in the room, but you may arrange for whatever you desire, Lord Emrys.”

Merlin slowly and quietly folded his hands in his lap. His skin crawled up his back as Uther spoke, but the sorcerer was excellent and well practiced at hiding what he was feeling, from showing on the outside. “That is considerate of you, King Uther. Though unnecessary.” Merlin said, silencing several voices that spoke over top of each other in the back of his head. “This is still your home.” It would have been easy to humiliate Uther here, or even call for his banishment as a requirement to peace, but it was not something either Balinor or Merlin demanded.

Then a few voices that were not his own began to ring dully in his mind. Connecting to the thoughts and insights of others was not usually a skill Merlin focused control over, but tonight there were many people in the room sharing a very loud, similar thought: _what will happen, tonight?_ Everywhere he looked, knights and nobles alike shared some version of this concern, some with graphic and cruel imaginings, some merely confused, and others troubled.

It was unsettling. And also none of their business. So in the end, Merlin turned his eyes on Arthur and asked, “Is it suitable to you, husband?”

“I- honestly had given it no thought, my Lord,” Arthur confessed. “If rooms are prepared for our use, then it seems correct to use them.” Honestly, he wanted nothing to do with their rooms, now or ever. Even the notion of their wedding night made his insides shrivel with terror. Certainly, he had shared sexual encounters with men before, knights and squires and even a nobleman or two. But always as the one in control, the one taking. He’d never contemplated the reverse, never wanted or needed to. He understood with sudden clarity the notion of lying back and thinking of Camelot. What else could he do? (He owed a few women an abject apology. How did they manage this fear?)

Still, Merlin’s willingness to ask him his opinion gave him hope that perhaps his proposal for their private lives may not meet with complete disfavor. 

“Then it shall be so.” Merlin said and returned to consuming the wedding feast. Though like his husband, Merlin did not seem to show much of an appetite, by eating slowly and only what was appropriate, rather than over indulging in glutinous appetites.

Of course then the table fell silent again and Merlin sighed softly, wishing it was acceptable for his friend Gwaine to join them, who could carry any conversation, in any company, no matter how awkward. “Do you enjoy traveling? Have you been to many places abroad?” Merlin asked, feeling that it was best to talk about the outside world, rather than focus on Camelot, or this castle, or especially their bedroom. 

Arthur slanted a glance across Merlin’s face, looking for any trace of irony there. Since the death of Ygraine in childbirth, Uther had been slowly, but determinedly, alienating all of his allies in the surrounding countries. It had been another reason Camelot was so open to falling. There had been none to ask for help.

“I have traveled most of Camelot, my Lord,” Arthur said, “but little elsewhere. When I was in my thirteenth year, I saw the lands of Cenred, but of other lands, I have seen nothing. I have enjoyed those travels I have been on, though many were for patrol or for less than pleasant duties.” (Like rounding up and executing sorcerers.) He thought of how far the Dragonlords must be able to travel with their mounts. “And you, my Lord? Are you an ardent traveler?”

“I am not as far-traveled as my father, but I have enjoyed the sights of new lands and cultures.” Merlin answered. He took a sip of his wine, though was not a heavy drinker and appeared only to do so to be polite. “Perhaps ... that is something we can do together, in the years to come.” 

“If that is something you will desire, my Lord,” Arthur said, the idea not very appealing. He would much prefer to dig himself a hole and vanish into it for the rest of his life, so that his family’s disgrace could be forgotten. “The people of Camelot will want to know their new leaders,” he added, thinking that at least he should attempt to show the Dragonlords that the people were innocent of all wrongdoing and deserved fair treatment. Surely they would appreciate Camelot’s beauty, the lushness of her fields and woods, the wildness of her mountains. 

Merlin glanced down to his own hand, resting on the edge of the table, and the ring he now wore. “Of course, husband ... they will know both of us.” He said, wanting to make it clear to Arthur, that they were meant to share this burden of power, regardless of how things had played out to get them here.

Arthur turned to him fully for the first time, allowing more than a hint of his fear in his voice. “I ask humbly that you forgive Camelot’s people for any fear or anger they may show you or your warriors. I know my father and the King have negotiated the release of Camelot’s knights and hope similar mercy will be shown to all others.”

Reaching out, Merlin placed his hand over top of Arthur’s and gave a firm squeeze. He nodded once, understanding Arthur’s fear for his people. And he wanted to reassure him and make promises, but right now was not the time. “I understand things will be difficult, but I wish for a peaceful transition.” He said sincerely, though unable to say more. 

“Well, certainly you have nothing to fear from any warrior that may be left, my Lord,” Arthur said, forcing his hand to keep still, but unable to keep all of the bitterness from his tone. Camelot had few warriors left. Leon and Elyan had been allowed to remain, but he wondered how long they would stay. For himself, he did not know if he would ever be allowed to lead men again, or even wield a sword. These terms had not yet been discussed with him, nor was he sure they had been decided. Though, looking over at Balinor, he did not think that the King would neglect such a point. 

Not that he had been a threat to Merlin anyway. 

It was impossible to assure Arthur that he would not be ruling by fear, when that was the general feeling in the room. Still, Merlin could not discuss these things here, or now. So he gave Arthur’s hand one last squeeze before letting go.

Merlin gave a small glance over to his father, before changing the subject. “Would you like some entertainment, this evening? A musician or juggler?” He suggested, trying to offer a more pleasing distraction. 

Arthur allowed himself a mirthless chuckle and said, “I suppose some slight pretense of gaiety might be wise.” He looked to Uther, eyes cold. “I would imagine, father, that you have some sort of thing that might fit my Lord’s request?” 

Uther could not pale further, but his eyes shown hollow at his diminished son, so cold and unhappy. “If his Majesty-” he nodded to Balinor, “and his Lordship,” he nodded to Merlin, “do please, we have some musicians on hand to offer proper entertainment.”

“Only if they play dirges,” Arthur muttered under his breath.

“I think some music to fill these halls would be welcome.” Merlin said. If nothing else, the music would make it harder to overhear people whisper their concerns to one another.

“Something you can dance to-“ Balinor began, drinking far more indulgently then his son.

“No, father.” Merlin said calmly. “I do not believe Arthur would like to dance with me. And I do not wish to humiliate my husband. Just the music will do.”

Arthur had not even noticed that Balinor had been drinking. His own drink sat untouched, along with his plate. He glanced sharply at Merlin when he mentioned being humiliated and asked, “Would your warriors wish to dance?”

Merlin raised his sights on the others in the room, reading the faces of those he knew. “No. Tonight is not the night for dancing.” That would require joy, and that was simply non-existent right now.

“My Lord, if you meant truly that you do not desire my humiliation, I would ask that you bring an end to this evening now. At least, allow those who wish to depart the right to do so,” Arthur said, again allowing a hint of plea in his voice.

Merlin listened to Arthur quietly, even though he could also hear his father’s voice in the back of his head, insisting that Merlin should maintain control over the young Pendragon. Except that Merlin was true to his word, he had no desire to humiliate Arthur, or the people of Camelot. “If that is what you wish, husband.” Merlin said gently. “You are free to be excused.” 

“I spoke not of myself,” Arthur said and glanced over the nobles of Camelot, who looked miserably huddled on their side of the room. He did not glance at the celebrating warriors of Ealdor, the only ones truly enjoying the evening. 

Merlin reached for his wine, taking one last sip before he set it down and shifted in his chair. With his back to Uther, he faced Arthur, speaking to him as privately as their position allowed. “When we both leave this table, the evening will be called to an end. Our people will be spared an uncomfortable evening, but it will be our duty to continue on, privately. Is this what you want?”

“My Lord, what I want is highly irrelevant, as well you know,” Arthur said. “As to some lesser degree is what you want. One way or another, sooner or later, we must face what is our wedding night. I will not lie and say I am desirous of what is to come, but what good does delaying it do? And there is much I am hopeful you will be willing to speak of when we are done with this display.”

“You have already spared your people with your actions. It seemed only fair that they spare you for a few hours, from something you clearly do not want. But there is no point in forcing these festivities to continue. If you consent to retire with me now, we will bring the feast to an end.” Merlin said offering his hand for Arthur to take. “And if nothing else, will allow us to speak freely with one another, behind closed doors.” 

Arthur placed his hand on Merlin’s offered arm, as a good queen would do. “Nothing can spare me now, my Lord,” he said. “I was also raised to duty, even though this is not what I imagined in all my days.” He lowered his eyes and waited for Merlin to rise so he might follow.

Merlin stood slowly, keeping Arthur close until he had the attention of the entire room. “If you will excuse us, ladies and gentlemen. Good night.” He said by way of dismissing those present and giving himself permission to leave with Arthur.

As Merlin left the table with Arthur on his arm, Balinor stood and toasted them silently with a single nod. Under normal circumstances, speeches and well wishes would have been expected. But in this case, it was out of place.

Arthur rose gracefully with Merlin and followed him out of the hall. He was aware of all the guests, his father included, rising with their glasses in the air. But there was no cheering. None of the celebration he had idly considered when he’d thought of wedding days. No blushing bride, newly queen, on his arm, awaiting her bridal bed. No first thoughts of an heir (an heir ... the mockery) that might soon be in the making. Nothing but the oppressive silence of the seriousness of the moment, the sealing of the peace in the Dragonlords’ favor.

“Am I allowed to speak freely with you, my Lord?” Arthur asked as they left the hall for the privacy of the corridors. Little stirred around them, and Arthur felt as if his people were in mourning around him ... possibly even for him. And it gave him a bit of strength, to imagine that he was at least a little loved.

For Merlin, the burden was a little easier to bear without a hundred eyes upon them, and the whispering voices or loud thoughts all around them. “Yes, husband. I think remaining honest with one another and the ability to speak freely is an important foundation to our union.” 

Arthur nodded once and said, “Then I would like to apologize on behalf of my family, as my father never will, for our war on magic and your people.” He thought of the rage of the Great Dragon as Camelot’s knights attacked him. The rage in the eyes of the Dragonlords when they came. “I was brought up to believe magic was evil, as were all those who wield it, and though at times I have wondered, I have followed his laws basically without question.” He ducked his head and said, “For that, perhaps this is the fate we all deserve. However, I cannot pretend that it is one I desire. And for that I also apologize, for I cannot believe this is your idea of an ideal destiny either.”

“I believe the sincerity of your apology.” Merlin said, walking to Arthur down the hall, though after a point, expecting him to take the lead in order to show him where their rooms actually were. “I think you are brave, to speak up in this way, when your father will not. And braver still, to face me in battle, and now, as my husband.” Merlin paused so that he could look Arthur in the eyes. “My hope is that we will navigate our differences in time. That I might show you that magic is not evil, and therefore nor am I. We have a lot to learn, and teach each other, I think.” 

“You would have done me a great favor by striking me down in the field,” Arthur confessed. “However, as you did not, we must both learn to live with this reality as best we can.” He nodded toward the steps which would lead them up to the royal bedchambers. “My Lord, may I ask your plans for this night?” 

“I am sorry that you feel that way. As I had no desire to hurt you in battle, nor harm you, tonight.” Merlin said, taking up Arthur’s hand and kissing the top knuckle briefly. “It is my wish to get to know you better, to talk freely in the way we cannot when others are present. And to that end ... I would prefer that we call each other by our names, rather than titles of deference. So ... may I call you, Arthur, husband?” 

The strange gestures of affection through Arthur off considerably, especially as they seemed to come from nowhere. He and the son of Balinor had never so much as laid eyes on each other prior to the battle between their peoples. And what impression Arthur got there was but of a tall figure decked in stunning armor and striking down warriors with but a flick of his finger, aided by a mighty white dragon. He could not but figure Merlin saw no more of him, a blonde figure in the middle of a swirling mass of human carnage.

Arthur nodded once and said, “As you wish, my Lord.” He moved up the stairs at an easy pace. “What would you like to know of me?”

“Please. Call me, Merlin.” He said as they walked up the stairs together. “There is a lot I would like to know, Arthur. As I imagine, you are at least somewhat curious about me as well.” Merlin said, not wanting this to be a one-sided exchange. “However, let us not discuss any more until we are within the privacy of our room.” Not that there was anyone around to overhear them.

“I- I do not believe I am quite comfortable enough yet to call you as such ... unless you wish to order it, my Lord,” Arthur said. He looked down at the ring on his left hand and frowned a little. “Why should we wait on questions? I do not know that either of us will be more comfortable in our new bedchambers.” He said the last with a bit of a shudder, even as they came astride with the correct floor. “I should apologize in advance for whatever awaits us in our new chambers. My father has never been known for his lack of ostentation.” He firmed his chin and shoulders, marching like the soldier to face an unpleasant duty down the hall.

“No, Arthur. I will not order you.” Merlin said, understanding how Arthur might find it easier to keep calling him ‘my lord’ as a way to address their relationship only in terms of duty, rather than anything on more personal terms.

“What style is more to your tastes, husband?” Merlin asked. “Where is your old room, in relation to this one?”

“I would speak more to you of that in a moment, my Lord,” Arthur said, really not wanting his new husband in his own quarters. He rather hoped to keep them as his own personal refuge. So, he removed his hand from Merlin’s arm and stepped away to open the door to his father’s former quarters and stepped inside.

Indeed, the quarters were decorated in a rather overbearing fashion, except for the bed, which was rather spare. His mouth quirked in a half-grin at his father’s one slight to this marriage. However, many of the other pieces bore the seal of the dragonlords, a token of the change in power. He stopped in the middle and gestured about him. “Welcome to your quarters, my Lord. If anything displeases you, we will of course have it changed.” 

Closing the door behind him, Merlin could easily see that the state of the bed was meant to be an insult to their arrangement. But Merlin was not so petty as to take offence or demand it be changed to something more suitable. “Thank you, Arthur.” He said and approached the large fireplace, giving it a small glance before the dry wood began to burn, giving instant light and warmth to the room.

Standing by the fireplace, Merlin took off one of his outer robes and slung it over the top of a nearby chair, freeing himself from the layers of fabric that indicated his status.

Arthur gulped and took an instinctive step back at such a casual use of power. It was like Merlin had brandished a sword and casually slashed a piece of furniture. He closed his eyes and forced himself to be still and not be afraid. “Please, ask what you wish to know,” he said, eyes still on the fire now burning merrily in the grate. 

Pulling off his boots, Merlin then sat on the floor with his back to the fireplace. Showing that he was not going to rush Arthur into bed. “Many things, husband. I want to know about your education. Your hobbies. What inspires you. What bores you. The foods you enjoy. The company you keep.”

Arthur sighed once and said, “You wish to know all. I would ask, my Lord, that we at least start our conversation this night with the more practical. I know and understand the convention and procedures of a marriage such as this, but is it your intent to consummate our marriage tonight?”

Drawing his knees up to his chest, Merlin sucked on his lower lip a moment as he considered Arthur’s question. “It is expected.” He said, unfolding his legs, correcting his unconscious habit. He was quiet for a moment longer before he changed his line of questioning. “Very well, Arthur. I will ask you something more practical to our situation. And I hope you will remain honest with me.” He said before he finally asked. “Have you ever been intimate with men before?” 

“I have, my Lord,” Arthur said. “And I have found men attractive. I would not say it was my favored pleasure, but I do not deny enjoying it. Though always from the position of lead, my Lord, as would be expected of a Prince who was to be King. And it is more of my nature. The thought of being subordinate ... I take to it no more easily in bed than I do in rule, but I know, should you wish to consummate this marriage, what is expected of me. I will not fight you.” He remained standing in the middle of the room, still wearing all of his formal garments from their wedding, a kind of barrier now between them, this distance and those ridiculous clothes.

“I see.” Merlin said, eyes on Arthur from across the room. To make it fair, Merlin disclosed similar information. “For myself, I have been intimate with men and women, though I will admit, I tend to prefer men. It is a preference that is not considered taboo in the old religion, and therefore not something I ever felt ashamed of.” He knew that for others, it was not always the case. “Some day husband, I admit, I would like to know you intimately. But not tonight, Arthur.” Merlin said, then to ensure he was being clear, added, “I will not demand that you consummate this marriage.”

Arthur’s shoulders slumped in relief at the words, much of his panic sloughing away. “Thank you, my Lord,” he breathed, meaning it with all his being. “I am well with implying or even stating that we did, since I understand that it is expected.” He looked up at Merlin, calmer in all ways. “I said before that your desires were no more consulted than mine in this marriage. I wish to say, my Lord, that I am in no way opposed to your having as many lovers as you desire. I see no reason why you should change your personal life in any real way. I know not if you have many lovers or had or planned to …” He cut himself, impatient at his own rambling. “I know also that you don’t need my permission and perhaps you think me above my place for stating something that should be obvious, but ... I wanted to say it. To encourage it, even.”

“You are not speaking out of turn, Arthur. This is a worthwhile conversation to have, so that we are clear in this arrangement.” Merlin glanced back over his shoulder to the fire that was warming him, thinking before speaking again. “If you have a preexisting lover, or intend to take on new ones, I expect you to be discreet. And to that end, I am willing to ensure that you have the privacy to pursue your interests, as long as you remain honest with your needs.” As for Merlin, he had no intention of breaking his vow. “This need not be an unhappy marriage, Arthur.”

Arthur lowered his head in grateful acceptance of the freedom granted by his new husband. He had no plans to test that liberality anytime soon, but it was good to know they were entering this union on similar footing. “I have no wish for this marriage to be any more unhappy than it has to be, my Lord,” Arthur said and slowly approached where Merlin sat. He removed his own uncomfortable tunic and dropped it over the back of a chair, before sitting gingerly across from his new husband. “How would you like this marriage to work, my Lord?”

Merlin smiled for the first time that day as Arthur sat across from him willingly. “I would like for there to be trust and respect between us, Arthur. And in public, maintain a unified front as we integrate the old and the new, together.”

“You were raised to be a king, Arthur. I was not. Yet here we are.” Merlin said with a soft sigh. “I would like to know that I can count on your counsel, and share duties with you, where possible.” 

“You were not raised to be the King after your father?” Arthur asked, thinking that strange. “You are the next Dragonlord.” He noted how Merlin’s face perked up when he smiled, thinking it was strange how so powerful a man could appear so guileless. “You truly desire a partnership? Why? What matters it to you?”

“Not in the same way you were, Arthur. I was raised to be other things.” Merlin said, though did not go into detail just now. They were still getting to know each other after all. “But a partnership is important to me. As we have already seen what happens when there is an imbalance of power. It is disastrous. It harms so many, destroys so many lives in so many different ways. My coming to Camelot already represents a change for the people ... and it could be a good one, if we work to make it so.” 

“A partnership like this must be forged over time,” Arthur said. “Frankly, my Lord, I wonder that you would trust me so easily or ask that I trust you.” He looked at the fire that Merlin caused with a thought. “You know I am my father’s son. Your powers frighten me ... anger me. None should wield the elements as you do ... and yet, you do.” He narrowed his eyes. “How can there ever be equality between us? You will ever be the more powerful, in truth, as well as title.” He quirked his mouth in a scowl that sat unpleasant on his features. “Yet, is it not so for most souls? At least you have a reason for your power. What have I but the accident of birth?”

“You are your father’s son, and yet, you are also your own man. You might obey his will, but you do not always agree with his methods, or even his beliefs. I do not know you well, Arthur, and yet I know something about you.” Merlin said, half his face pulling into an awkward smile. “You are not like Uther. You do not want to squeeze your fist around Camelot until all life, all things good, have been drained from it. You have a different vision for Camelot, and I would like to hear it. Please.” 

“My vision?” Arthur asked with a hint of disbelief. “My Lord, I think you give me undue credit. There are some things I would like to do, tis true, but I am not sure I will even be allowed. The knights of Camelot are mostly disbanded. I assume you will replace them with your own trusted warriors.”

“You are an intelligent man, Arthur. There is no way that you are satisfied with the way things have been, with the status quo.” Merlin said, drawing his long legs in to cross in front of him. “Please. Tell me. Regardless of weather you think they are attainable or not ... what are the things you would like to do. What future would you like to see for Camelot?” 

Arthur’s backbone stiffened a little at the inference that the reign of his father was a failure. Uther had done much to bring Camelot together as a young man, though his vendetta against magic had ultimately torn them apart. He stood and strode away from Merlin, toward the window. “It is a cruel thing to ask me, my Lord, as things are now. Whatever my desires for Camelot, they are well and truly brought to nothing now. Perhaps I thought magic might be gradually reintroduced, with executions at least brought to an immediate end. What need that idea now? Perhaps I thought the knighthood should be opened up to all who earned it, not just the nobility. What matters that? Your rules for your armies will take all precedence.” He opened the window and looked out at the courtyard, thinking of the lands beyond. “I do want better justice and equality for all in the land.”  
  
“Cruelty is not in my nature, Arthur. In time, I hope that you will see that.” Merlin said, watching Arthur talk out his frustration. After some cool air entered into the room, Merlin stood, though made no attempt to get closer to Arthur, or make him feel cornered. “To my mind, our wishes are compatible.” Merlin began, hands at his sides. “I want to see better justice and equality as well, which is extended to people with magic. I want them to have the freedom to be who they are, practice the religion they wish, and feel they have every right to exist in this world, regardless of how they were born.”

“Consider, Arthur. There are people who have lived in Camelot their entire life, afraid to let their friends or even family know who they are, because of the magic that flows through them. They are denied the same freedoms that their neighbors are able to take for granted. These are your people, Arthur. Long before I ever came on the scene. Don’t you want them to feel safe? Happy? Accepted, and welcome? They will show you great loyalty, if you see to it that they receive justice and equality as true citizens of Camelot.”

“And with that love and loyalty, imagine if someone of them want to protect the values of Camelot, just as much as you do? Now they have a reason to. What if a sorcerer wants to be trained as a knight? And follow a code of ethics, to be apart of a brotherhood ... will you deny them for wanting to serve? Or will you give them a chance?” Merlin swallowed and rubbed a hand over a knot in his stomach. “To my mind, these things are possible, Arthur.”

“I did not say they were not compatible, my Lord,” Arthur said. “My ideas are simply superfluous now. All that you speak of will come to be without need of me. If you ask if I will support you in these things, the answer is yes. But with my father agreeing to step down in two years, much of what you wish will come to pass before even your rule. However, in two years, you will know this land enough to rule with some sense of familiarity. The loyalty will be to you, to the Dragonlords, who brought them their freedom. Not to me, as the son of their oppressor, forced out of power by war. In due course, you might be well to be rid of me, as a remnant of the past.” He put a hand on the sill, feeling again the cold grip of irony. All the plans he had made, trying to think out what he would do as king, to bring justice and peace to Camelot, to reunite with allies ... how much wasted time it had been.

Merlin had the urge to call upon Kilgharrah and have the Great Dragon tell Arthur all the good that could come of their partnership, of their lives now intertwined. But it was far too soon. It was their wedding night. And Merlin was hardly going to earn Arthur’s confidence in one day.

Hugging his right arm across his own chest, Merlin was quiet for a time before he changed the subject. “Let us assume that I have no desire to be rid of you, Arthur. In which case ... what would you like the sleeping arrangements to be?” 

“For tonight, I should remain in these quarters, my Lord,” Arthur said. “Perhaps for a few nights.” He gave the bed a disgusted look. “I will happily take the servant’s bed. We should request a new bed regardless of our sleeping arrangements. Certainly, this pathetic thing is a slight that you will not be expected to take lightly. If I may, the woodcarver in the Lower Town is a fine craftsman and can make you any kind of bed you please.”

“Husband-“ Merlin said with a small, amused smile. “I am a Dragonlord. I am far more accustomed to sleeping in grassy fields and cave floors then I am to sleeping in fine beds. I will remain here, by the fireplace. You should take the bed. However, I will see to it that another bed is made, at a quality you deserve and are accustomed to.” 

Arthur turned to Merlin and looked at him with singular focus for a brief moment, wondering always at how familiar, how easy he seemed with this situation. Certainly, he was far kinder than Arthur had hoped for, especially in the circumstances, but he was also content, at least on the outside. “I have also made no small habit of travels that required sleeping on the ground. And you are to be King, my Lord. The privileges go rightfully always to the heir. But we are in agreement about the bed, at least. A change should be made. With your permission, I will request a replacement for the morrow. It will not be specially made for you, but it will be better than this.” He lightly tapped the bed with one boot.

“Very well, then I entrust you to see to a replacement bed for our room.” Merlin said and pulled off a few more layers until he was at last in his undershirt and pants. “In the meantime, I exercise my privilege to sleep where I want ... and that happens to be on the floor, by the fire.” He said, insisting on his choice to give Arthur the bed.

Arthur shrugged and said, “As you wish, my Lord. May I ask something of you?” He moved to the wardrobe and opened it, wincing a little at the site of the majority of his clothes being in residence. He would have to carefully move some of them back to his old quarters.

“Yes, Arthur?” Merlin prompted, watching Arthur only as far as the wardrobe before he averted his gaze, trying to allow for some privacy. 

“How is it you are so easy about this, my Lord?” Arthur asked. “Although you have the power in this relationship, still, this marriage was only recently arranged and without consultation of either of us ... or perhaps your father at least had the decency to speak to you about it before it was sealed? Nonetheless, you have accepted this with a calm I confess to envy.” 

“I do not know that I can fully and satisfactorily answer you, Arthur.” Merlin said as he removed a blanket from the back of a chair and laid it out on the floor. “For one, I do not necessarily equate having magic, as having power. Though I understand how you might see it that way.” He said and laid out on the floor on his side, back to the warm fire as he settled and got comfortable. “But you are right, I have accepted the arrangement. Even though neither of us decided upon this path ... I believe some good can come of it.”

“I was not referring to your magic, my Lord, though that is another form of power you have over me, but rather that you are now the second highest title in Camelot. The highest, more truthfully, since you could topple my father whenever you wish,” Arthur said. “You speak of good of this marriage. You truly believe that and are willing to settle for me?”

As pleasing as it might be to see Uther fall, the truth was, Merlin barely regarded the man. He had fallen, long before the Dragonlords. He didn’t matter any more. Only Arthur mattered. And at most, they had two years for Arthur to see that. “Yes, Arthur. I am willing.” Merlin smiled a little to himself. 

Arthur’s eyebrows went up to his hairline at the answer. “Well, you are certainly an enigma, my Lord,” he said. “However, I am glad that you are not upset over this arrangement. I admit to also being a trifle ... unsettled by your calm and certainty.” His mouth quirked upward a little. “Am I wrong in thinking you might have been more than comfortable with consummating our relationship this evening?”

Merlin was quiet a moment, hesitating to answer, before he provided the truth. “You are not wrong, Arthur. You are an attractive man and some day, I hope to know you better ... but I am not comfortable taking you to bed, while you are afraid of me, or undesiring.” 

“Then in this, at least, you are a good man, my Lord, and I am grateful,” Arthur said. “You asked me before about bedding arrangements. If you do not mind, I would wish to inhabit my old quarters after this week.”

“Of course, Arthur. I understand.” Merlin said, partly able to see Arthur from where he was on the floor, before tucking his head into the side of his arm. Even though to his standards, he was warm and comfortable, this was an unfamiliar environment and Merlin suspected he would not be able to sleep easy right away.

For the first time since the defeat of Camelot, Arthur’s shoulders did not feel as if they weighed a thousand pounds each. He allowed them to slump in relief, even as he leaned his head a little against the wardrobe, eyes closed. Showing such open emotion was a sign that he believed the Dragonlord’s words, for he was not one to show his deeper feelings easily. “It is an awkward thing to have to feel thankful to one who has bested you and your father in combat,” he said. “You are not at all what I feared, my Lord. Perhaps Camelot is lucky after all.”

“What did you fear, Arthur?” Merlin asked. In order for them to have a successful partnership, it was important for Merlin not to be a villain in Arthur’s eyes, which meant learning about his fears. And proving himself contrary to those concerns. 

“I am not altogether sure, my Lord,” Arthur said. “Certainly a degree of anger and contempt for myself and my family, if not my country. A desire, perhaps, to take out all of the pain and misery inflected on your kind on my skin. A general degrading of my person as one fallen, to be used as you saw fit. Little kindness.” He glanced back at Merlin, not really sure if some of that would not emerge in the future. But for now, at least, he seemed safer than imagined.

Merlin shivered, despite the heat warming his back. “If our circumstances were reversed ... would you have done that to me?” What a terrifying thought, what a clear example of the sort of cruelty Arthur expected in life. But at the very least, this was a base measurement to prove to Arthur what he was, and was not.

And there was a question.

“If our situations were reversed, I would have no say in your fate,” Arthur confessed. “My father would never had allowed you to live, as you allowed us to live. The concept of mercy for those with magic is beyond him.” He paused and looked down at his hands, studying the rough calluses on his fingers, earned with a sword. “If I had a choice in the matter, I’d like to think I was better than him. But I would fear you as you do not need to fear me. You can stop me without a weapon in your hands, but I could not do the same. Cannot.”

Yes, and that was the truth of it. No abuse or degrading display, just death. Merlin shifted onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. A small part of his brain was still expecting to see night clouds and the stars overhead, not wood and stone.

“I should like to tell you, Arthur, not all those with magic, have my abilities. I say this because thousands with magic have already been killed, and thousands more still live in fear of being discovered ... if they had my abilities, they would have been able to escape any executioner, survived any pyre ... and yet they didn’t. And can’t. I say this because I want you to understand, Arthur, the people in your own kingdom fear you far more than you fear them.”

“And there are those who came to Camelot as refuge against magic users,” Arthur said in counterpoint. “Great evil has been done by those with magic, and many kings use sorcerers to enforce terrible laws and punishments on their people. Those people fear you, my Lord. Perhaps undeservedly, but I predict that there will be much emigration from Camelot in the coming days.”

Merlin shook his head, feeling that Arthur would rather argue against him than listen. Not that he expected to change Arthur’s mind on magic overnight. “On this point, we disagree, husband. I believe the opposite will be true. Camelot can still be a safe place for those wanting to escape dark magic and abuse of power ... while also being a safe place for those who want to live in the light, as their true selves.”

Arthur nodded once in crisp acceptance of their differences, pricked by the idea of Camelot as living in the shadows. Though, could he deny it, really? Uther’s rule had cast a pall over the lands in the last days. “Would you mind, my Lord, if I were to take a walk? I shall change into something less noticeable before I do so.”

Merlin sat up onto his forearms and regarded Arthur for a moment. It was hard not to take it personally that Arthur wanted to get away from him, especially with Merlin’s attempts to be kind. But he understood it was better to let Arthur go, then exercise some sort of unnecessary control over him. Yet something else tickled the back of his mind, so he asked a question, before giving his permission. “Do you intend to do yourself harm?”

“You mean jump from the highest parapet, my Lord?” Arthur asked with the faintest smile. “Would it really bother you so much if I did?” He pulled out one of his oldest outfits that was still hidden in the back of his wardrobe, which had been moved into these bedchambers that day. He began to remove his clothes, hands impatient to be out of the royal colors, which felt choking now. “You seem kind, my Lord, but I do not understand why my life should mean anything to you. Still, to answer you honestly, I do not plan anything more than to escape for an hour or so from these walls where I have been imprisoned since you knocked me senseless on the battlefield.”  
  
Unable to verbalize why it would in fact devastate him to see Arthur come to harm, Merlin held back by biting his own lip. Folding his hands carefully in his lap, Merlin nodded once. “I understand, Arthur. Of course you can go. I am not your captor, despite what your father might prefer you believe.”

“My Lord, you have won your victory, so there is no reason to continue to point out my father’s deficiencies,” Arthur said with his first hint of temper. “I share more than a few of them.” He stepped behind the wardrobe to change, relaxing finally as he dressed as a simple hunter, a garb he wore often in his younger days. “I will be discrete,” he said, stepping out again. “None will know we did not spend the night as expected.” He bowed to his husband. “Pleasant dreams, my Lord ... and you may as well take the bed now.” 

Merlin however remained in place, watching Arthur go. “Good night, Arthur.”

“Goodnight, my Lord,” Arthur said and stepped silently into the corridor, pulling his cloak’s hood up to hide his face. With a little sigh of relief, he headed down the stairs, picking up his pace with every step until he was near a run when he stepped out the door at the back of the kitchens and escaped into the night. 


	2. Chapter 2

Unable to sleep and recognizing that Arthur was not coming back to their shared room, Merlin left the comfort of the fireplace and got dressed. Not in royal attire, but simple clothes that he was accustomed to wearing, when living off the land, among the dragons.

He was frustrated with today, and though his father Balinor would be willing to listen, he would not entirely understand. So Merlin left the castle and navigated his way in the dark to a nearby field, calling upon Kilgharrah to answer his need.

A great rustling of wings soon answered the cry, and the Great Dragon landed as softly as any dove in front of his friend and lord. “Young warlock, I did not foresee seeing you this night. How do you find your Prince?”  
  
Merlin hugged his arms across his own chest, not in defiance, but insecurity. Even so, he smiled at Kilgharrah, thankful that he was willing to answer his call, even though he was likely not far away. “He ...” Merlin sighed and shook his head. “Well, he doesn’t want anything to do with me. And I know I shouldn’t be surprised but ...” Merlin trailed off then unfolded his arms with a huff. “After all this time, I think I must have convinced myself, that when I came into his life ... he would feel a connection to me, and want the change that I can provide.”  
  
Kilgharrah cocked his head in a reptilian way and said, “You forget that he has not heard the tales as you have since you were naught but a whelp. And talk of destiny and futures entwined would sit unwell with the son of Uther Pendragon.” He spoke the name with distaste, face crinkled at the mouth. Snaking forward a little, he puffed a warm breath over him. “Still, you are not too displeased with him?”

“You’re right of course.” Merlin said gently and sighed softly, calmed by the dragon’s breath against his skin. “It is hard to get a sense of Arthur, of what he’s really like ... right now he is scared and angry ... though not enough to have me assassinated on our wedding night, so there is that, at least.” 

Kilgharrah snorted and shook his head. “Whatever else he may be, your Prince is not dishonorable. He would not be underhanded in the means of your death.” With a shake of his entire body, he settled down, almost like a cat positioning in a loaf shape. “You felt your connection to him” he stated without question.

“Yes-“ Merlin admitted and sat down in the grass in front of Kilgharrah, now that the dragon had settled first. “I think that scared him too. I was too quick to show even the smallest signs of affection.” Merlin understood that he should be more careful, but every time he had reached to Arthur, touched or kissed his hand, it had been done without thought, it had been a reflex, as easy as blinking. 

“You wear your heart very much on the outside,” Kilgharrah agreed. “It does not surprise me that you were unable to keep from such touches. You are also much more in tune with the natural order, and you sense that he is your natural order. But take care, young warlock. Your destinies may be intertwined, but nothing is settled yet. Your Prince yet may elude you.”

Merlin nodded solemnly. “That is the thought that has kept me up, tonight. That we might achieve together, everything that we are meant to ... for Camelot, for our kin ... but even with all that, Arthur might feel nothing for me.” He said, shifting closer to Kilgharrah’s large claw, a position that many others would be terrified to find themselves in, but for Merlin, it was a place of comfort and safety. After all, dragons were not pets. They were intelligent, powering beings, and Kilgharrah had been Merlin’s friend and companion since birth.

“You wish him to care for you,” Kilgharrah said with a hint of question. “Would truly you be unhappy were you not destined to do more than rule well and justly together?”

“I have never thought of myself as greedy, Kilgharrah.” Merlin said, the name in dragon was pronounced smoothly, with the purred accent articulated perfectly. “It should be enough to satisfy our destiny. To rule well. To bring justice and peace to the land. But I apologetically admit ... I want him to care for me, too.”

Smoke twirled from the dragon’s nostrils as he thought over Merlin’s words. “I do not believe you to be greedy, young warlock. It is natural for humans, even powerful warlocks, to desire to be loved. So ... what shall you do?”

“I cannot force Arthur to feel anything for me.” Merlin said, even though that was technically not true. He could in fact bewitch Arthur, force him to be infatuated with him, devoted and doting. But Merlin had no desire to live out such a lie. “So he will either come to care for me over time, or he won’t. And in the meantime ... in the meantime, I must show him the good magic can bring, and earn his trust and confidence.”

“And perhaps, young warlock, learn to appreciate more those who do not possess magic, for here is a challenge you must face without it,” Kilgharrah said. “Just as I must not char your brat of a dragon.”

Merlin listened to this advice with a somber expression. What Kilgharrah was suggesting was no small thing. But before the weight of it could settle too heavily on him, Merlin laughed brightly at the suggestion that Kilgharrah would ever do harm to Aithusa. “You would never.” Merlin said and leaned his head against the dragon’s knuckle, which was about the size of his entire body.

“Hmph,” Kilgharrah grunted, none too sure of that, but felt glad at cheering his young friend up a bit. Merlin always looked better when he was smiling. “Perhaps your Prince would benefit from having a dragon companion of his own. You might teach him to ride.”

This time Merlin rumbled out a proper dragon-like laugh. “Yes ... yes, how good of you to volunteer yourself!” He teased, knowing full well that Kilgharrah would likely prefer to chew off his own wings before letting a Pendragon ride him.

Kilgharrah tossed his mighty head and said, “I would thunk some of the arrogance out of him, but mayhaps he has had enough from you of that.” He ducked his head and nudged him once. “A chance to earn some little of his own back may not be remiss.”

The nudge was gentle, but Kilgharrah was still a dragon and it had pushed Merlin over slightly. Not that he minded, Merlin knew these gestures of fondness from his old friend. “We will see.” Merlin said neutrally, even though he knew and trusted Kilgharrah’s observation.

Kilgharrah made another ‘hmphing’ noise and said, “You might benefit from a little humility, as well,” but there was vast amusement behind all of his sounds. He lifted his head upward and said, “I believe your Prince is on a ramble through the woods.”

“In what way?” Merlin asked carefully with a small frown, getting to his feet to face Kilgharrah. Though he did briefly look to the side, towards the line of trees and the forest beyond. He could not hear Arthur, as perhaps Kilgharrah managed to, but believed him. 

“The way a human might take a nighttime stroll through the woods?” Kilgharrah answered, for once thrown off by the way someone else spoke. “I do not believe him to be in any danger, young warlock. He carries no sword, but his movements speak of one who is well familiar with his path.”

“In what way am I to show humility?” Merlin clarified. 

Kilgharrah puffed at him again. ”You must find what works with your Prince, not I. Patience here might win you fair Prince. And some little understanding. For has he not lost everything he had?”

Merlin nodded and settled back against the dragon’s large claw with a heavy sigh. Soon he would have to learn to sleep indoors and keep to strict routines, but for now, just for tonight, he wanted to indulge in one more evening under the night sky with his friend.

Kilgharrah did not mind, but settled his head next to Merlin easily, so his warm breath blew gently over him. “You will be a magnificent king, Merlin. Do not doubt yourself.”

“Thank you.” Of course Merlin had his doubts, but knew that sometimes Kilgharrah saw things woven through the magic of the universe, that Merlin could not see for himself. He hummed softly, feeling at ease with the dragon breath against his skin, far better then any fireplace. 

“Goodnight, my friend,” Kilgharrah said. “May your morrow go more aimably than your today.” He closed his eyes and nuzzled at the warlock gently. “Do not let the Pendragons bite.”

“Good night, Kilgharrah.” Merlin said warmly, amused by his friend and enjoying his company after what had been mostly a somber day. He kept his hands upon the dragon and this time as he closed his eyes, sleep did not elude him.

* * *  
  
  


It had been a beautiful sunrise in the field, and looked like it was going to be a sunny, cheerful day outside. But Merlin wasn’t outside anymore, wasn’t curled up with the Great Dragon, experiencing peaceful dreams. He was stuck inside, where the mood was still quite somber.

And while a generous breakfast was served, Merlin could not help but keep his eyes on the open windows and allow his mind to wander away from the oppressive castle.

Arthur had snuck back into the castle late in the night and discovered his new husband had also left. Relieved, he moved all of his clothes back to his own room as quickly as possible, grateful for deserted halls. He did sleep in their royal bedroom, but in the servant’s niche. And when Merlin had not returned when he got up, he did not bother to mess the royal bed, deciding to allow the servants to gossip as they would. If Merlin did not care, he certainly wasn’t going to.

But breakfast was excruciating. Uther looked as if he might regurgitate his meal at any moment. Balinor looked graver than ever, eyes fixed on Merlin, who was lost in daydreams and did not seem to notice anything.

Especially not his new husband. 

Arthur wondered if he could just wander out the castle gate and never return, picking at his own plate with disinterest. Finally, he tossed his utensils to his plate and bowed to all of the others at the table. “If I may be excused,” he said, getting out of his chair before anyone could answer. He had no idea where he was going, but anywhere else sounded good.

Merlin had been startled and blinked at Arthur. It had been so quiet that it almost felt like no one knew how to speak. Though before Arthur could make another run for it, Merlin stood and calmly dropped his napkin on the table. “I would like to walk with you.”

Arthur paused in his tracks, “As you like, my Lord,” and waited for the other man without pleasure. He was grateful for an uneventful ‘wedding’ night, but hoped to go a little longer before having to deal his husband again. Still there was no doubt they needed to speak more of their situation.

Merlin approached and though he wanted to offer Arthur his arm, decided it was best to show some control, since his attempts to be kind and affectionate the other day had not been well received. Still, he headed out with Arthur without giving Uther much acknowledgement.

“I would like to ask you something, Arthur.” Merlin said, leading them down the stairs that would shortly take them out into the courtyard. 

“Ask me what you will, my Lord,” Arthur said, grateful Merlin had not tried to escort him out again like one would a woman. “I will do my best to answer you.” He did not know where they were going, so headed for the outdoors by instinct. 

“I would like you to train Gwaine to be a Knight of Camelot.” Merlin said, timing his request perfectly as they approached a fit young man with feathered dark hair. He was a noble by birth, but wore the clothes of a commoner.

“I beg your pardon, my Lord,” Arthur said, not sure he had heard correctly. “You wish for me to do what with whom?” He had not even believed he was allowed to handle a sword, let alone still be a knight.  
  
“Gwaine.” Merlin gestured with his hand towards the young man who was now beaming at both Merlin and Arthur. He clearly had slept well and was completely unbothered by the politics of the day.

“Good morning, my lords.” He said, though his tone was almost teasing, as if he did not really believe in such titles.

“I would like you to train Gwaine to be a Knight of Camelot. He is skilled. Though-“ Merlin began, though was cut off.

“Though undisciplined? Rebellious? Defiant?” Gwaine supplied with a smile.

“But I believe with your experience, you could make him better.” Merlin said with a clearing of his throat, after the interruption.

“You wish me to train him to be a Knight of Camelot?” Arthur asked, baffled by the request. “Is this a personal favor, my Lord? Per my current status, I am not a knight of Camelot and thus, cannot honorably teach anyone else to be.” He spared only the barest of glances at Gwaine, wondering if he was Merlin’s lover and than rather hoping he was. It would relieve him of many worries.

Merlin paused before speaking, his eyebrows coming together in some confusion. “Your current status? Arthur, you are a Knight of Camelot. That is ... that is not something that has, or will ever, be taken from you.” For Merlin, this was an obvious truth, he had never considered it to be any other way. Though clearly, Arthur had.

“When you bested me in battle, you took my sword from me,” Arthur said with precise diction, so there could be no mistake. “Or your father did. Regardless, it has not been returned, nor has there been any mention of my returning to any of my former training ... forget my former place as head of the knights. I would recommend Sir Gwaine’s training be led by whomever that is to be. However, I am grateful that you will consider me as a knight still, my Lord.” He inclined his head in a gesture of respect, though it was strictly formal.

Merlin glanced to Gwaine who was being strategically silent right now. “The misunderstanding appears to be mine. And I apologize for that.” Merlin said, showing that he was willing to admit when he was wrong. “I do not know what the customs are. Should I present your sword to you in some sort of symbolic gesture? It was my intention, and assumption, that you would remain a Knight, Arthur. And train a new generation of Knights who are interested in serving a united Camelot.”   
  
“You wish for me to remain as head of the Knights of Camelot?” Arthur asked, treading very carefully now. “And this is agreed to by your father, as well?” He would not do anything that might endanger their fragile peace, but also did not want to offend Merlin, who genuinely seemed surprised that Arthur did not expect to remain a knight.

This time however, Merlin gave an awkward, but kind smile. “Yes, Arthur. I want you to remain as head of the Knights.” He glanced back at the castle briefly, before keeping his attention entirely on Arthur. “My father set the foundations for peace, but it is my responsibility to maintain it, as I see fit. Which includes you as a Knight, Arthur.”

Arthur squared his shoulders and studied Merlin’s face intently for a long moment, looking for signs of deceit. Finally, he nodded and looked at Gwaine with an appraising eye. “Do you wish to become a Knight of Camelot, Sir Gwaine? Are you already a warrior of the Dragonlords?” His words gave him pause, and he glanced back at Merlin. “You have your own warriors. What of them?”

Now that things seem to be resolved, Gwaine lit up and was quite happy to fill any silence. “Merlin is my friend, My Lord. My loyalty is to him, not the Dragonlords. He believes in a new Camelot, and I believe in him. So I am here, to become a Knight.”

“My father, Balinor, will be taking many warriors with him when he departs.” Merlin said with a simple nod. “Unless there are those you feel are worthy to be trained as a Knight. They will stay, and earn their place, trained at your hand.”

Arthur ducked his head and hid a slight smile. “My father would call you quite mad, but I accept the role of head of the knights of Camelot. However, I request a formal ceremony, my Lord, so none may question my right to the role.” He would deal with Gwane after he was named lead.

Merlin ignored the comment about Uther. What may or may not be his opinion did not matter to Merlin. “As you wish, husband. Since I am unfamiliar with these social customs, what should the ceremony entail? What would make it right, in your eyes?” He asked, willing to tailor the entire thing to Arthur’s wishes.

“I will tell Geoffrey of your desire to allow me to continue in my role,” Arthur said. “We are in a unique situation, so I am unsure of the precedent, my Lord. However, if anyone will know, it will be he. And he’ll make sure we follow the custom to the letter, so there will be no question as to my position or your support.” He paused and observed Merlin for a moment. “Should we wait until your father has departed?”

“My father’s presence, or absence does not change the fact that you are head of the knights, Arthur.” Merlin said, having never thought otherwise. “But if it makes you feel more secure, we will wait until he departs. You have my support, husband.”

Arthur raised both brows as Merlin again referred to him as husband, but felt too gratified at the knowledge that he could still wield a sword for his country to comment. “It is not my security that I considered,” he said. He looked back to Gwaine. “You said you are loyal to Lord Merlin ... but do you truly wish to be a knight? Forgive me, but you may serve him as a guard without the strict bonds of knighthood.”

As if oblivious to any awkwardness, Gwaine just smiled brightly. “I am here to guard and protect Camelot as a whole. That is where I will be most useful. I have lived, let’s say- a wild and unstructured life ... it’s time that I settle down to one place. Form bonds that cannot be found on the road, between taverns. I am here to be a knight, My Lord. And nothing less.”

“If you can live up to the strictures of knighthood,” Arthur corrected, but paused again. “Presuming I am allowed to continue to lead the knights in the same way I have always done.” He glanced at Merlin, hating how everything he did would now require the go-ahead of his new husband. It was bad enough with Uther.

“I do not see why not, Arthur. Unless there is some sort of initiation ritual that is violent or causes harm that I should know about.” Merlin said, not knowing what happened behind closed doors. Still, he trusted that Gwaine would do the work and prove himself, even though it was Merlin who made the introductions. That was as far as Merlin would interfere with Arthur and his Knights. 

Arthur straightened further and the gaze he leveled on Merlin could only be called icy. “I train my knights hard, and all, including myself, will be injured from time-to-time, but I do not abuse those under my command. I would not think you would trust me to run the knights if you thought otherwise, my Lord.” He looked away and closed his eyes, tamping down on his annoyance. “Forgive my temper,” he murmured, disliking that he had to ask even that.

“I look forward to seeing it for myself, Arthur.” Merlin said then glanced to Gwaine, knowing he had a target on his back since he and Merlin were friends. And should Gwaine fail, it would set the ground for Arthur never trusting Merlin’s judgment again. Not that Merlin would put that pressure on Gwaine.

Arthur grimaced at the idea of Merlin coming to watch their trainings. “I can do nothing until after the ceremony. I have not spoken to those few knights who do remain since before the battle commenced. I would need your permission to do so now, my Lord.”

Merlin did not understand why Arthur would have been forbidden from returning to his Knights, even after the battle. Or why he would be stripped of his duties or standing among them. A lot about the way things were here, made little sense to Merlin, but he was doing his best to learn quickly. “Yes, Arthur. Of course you may. And you need not ask my permission to do so again.” He said, thinking about how hard it must be not being able to talk to his friends. “Though as a favor to me, even with Gwaine is not yet a Knight, or even a trainee, I would ask that you find him suitable accommodations.” 

Arthur frowned and looked between the men. “Do your warriors not already have accommodations?” he asked. “I would have thought you already had a place to stay in Camelot. What kind of rooms would you like for your man, my Lord?”

“My father’s warriors do have accommodations. However, Gwaine is not a warrior for the Dragonlords. He does not belong in their ranks and does not have a place to stay.” Merlin began to explain.

“Other then the stables.” Gwaine supplied, having slept their the night before, though was awake and clean enough to meet Arthur and Merlin this morning.

“Other then the stables.” Merlin repeated back, not at all showing offence that Gwaine had interrupted him, but appeared quite used to it. “So I ask that you place Gwaine in shared accommodations, as you would with other trainees.” 

“The stables,” Arthur repeated, wondering why a man who was obviously Merlin’s friend had been left to sleep in the stables. “I shall make sure your man has a place to stay, my Lord. There is no need for shared accommodations. There is room in the castle.” He would speak to the Head Steward. “My Lord, perhaps you should be introduced to the Head Steward and speak to him of your desires for the running of the castle and town. He will follow your desires.”

“Thank you, Arthur.” Merlin said gently.

“Great!” Gwaine said with more enthusiasm as he picked up his travel bag from off the ground and slung it over his shoulder. Followed by his own sword, which was sheathed and wrapped in a small blanket for the time being.

“Speaking with the Head Steward is among one, of many things I intend to do today.” Merlin was not even yet aware of all his duties, but it was a list that was quickly growing. “For now, I will leave Gwaine with you, husband. Thank you.”

Arthur inclined his head and said, “I will look after him, as you have asked me, my Lord,” and turned to Gwaine. “If you will follow me, I will find you suitable rooms.” He headed toward the castle again, not looking to see if the other man followed.  
  
Gwaine followed after Arthur easily, even as he carried his bag over his shoulder. “So it’s not going to be a problem that my father was a Knight who fought and died for Caerleon, is it? Because when he died, my family was left with nothing. And I learned quite young to mistrust nobles who are blinded by power and greed. But Merlin has my loyalty and he says that Camelot will be different.”

“Merlin is heir to the throne now,” Arthur said with as much neutrality as he could manage. “If he wishes that you be a knight, so shall you be. I will attempt to train you well enough not to be killed. I would not want to anger him by allowing your easy death.” He headed up the stairs of one of the towers. “I will find you chambers near the royal ones, so you may visit whenever you both so desire.”  
  
“Uh- I’ve been living by the sword, traveling the world for most of my life, My Lord. I’m not easily killed.” Gwaine said with some humor. “And there is really no need for me to be close to your rooms. We don’t stay up late and talk or anything ... nor ... am I going to visit the bedchambers.” He said with a smile, a little flattered by the implication Arthur had started to make. “That’s not what this is, My Lord.”

“As you say,” Arthur said with continued neutrality. “However, he may find having a friend near him to be some comfort.” He would, if he had any friends to be ciose to at this time. He took a deep breath and blew out another breath of anger at Uther for teaching him not to befriend others or let them close enough to hurt him. “And what either of you decide behind closed doors is no business of mine, so long as it does not interfere with your duties.”  
  
Gwaine beamed. “That’s very open minded of you, My Lord ... but really, really not necessary.” Adjusting his pack on his shoulder, Gwaine then asked, clearly accustomed to speaking openly. “Did Merlin give you the same option? I’m sure he must have.”

“As you say,” Arthur said again, not planning to give anything personal away to a man whose loyalty lay with the Dragonlords. And Merlin in particular. “How long have you lived among the Dragonlords?”  
  
“Oh, I don’t know ... I’ve lived among the Dragonlords for a few months here and there, a few times a year, over the last seven years.” Gwaine shrugged. “They’re pretty good about letting outsiders in, even those like me who don’t practice the old religion or have any magic.” 

“Hmm,” was Arthur’s only response, before he stopped in front of an ornate, oak door and pushed it open to reveal an obviously unused room. “This was a guest room, but I shall let everyone know that you will be staying here. Please request any changes you would like to make to the servants. I will make sure they are followed.” He gestured for Gwaine to look around.

“Wow. This is amazing.” Gwaine said, being genuine in his enthusiasm as he entered into the room and dropped his bag on the floor. “Can’t remember the last time I’ve had something this nice. Thanks ... this is ... this is very good of you.” He said, having not made any assumptions, but also having not expected much kindness from a Pendragon.

“Then this will meet your needs?” Arthur asked, wanting to hear that from Gwaine’s lips. “I will show you the way to the Royal chambers in a moment. I am not there nights, should you care to visit. However, you may visit even if I am there, should Merlin desire it ... of course.” He smiled thinly.

“Yes, My Lord. This will more than meet my needs.” Gwaine said and set his sword on the bed for now, since Arthur kept insisting on making him aware of the royal bedchambers. But his heart sank on behalf of his friend, thinking about how lonely he must be, married to someone who didn’t want him. Not that he could blame Arthur, since it hadn’t been his decision, any more than it had been Merlin’s. Still, he was sorry for him. Both of them. 

“I am not a lord,” Arthur said quietly. “I am ... well, I am perhaps a consort? We have not really worked out titles between us yet. But I am more a servant than anyone else in this castle.” He grimaced at his own words and said, “Come, I shall show you around further.”

“I really don’t think that’s true.” Gwaine said and patted Arthur on the shoulder, clearly not used to any sort of boundaries. “You’re Prince Arthur. Knight of Camelot. It’s not like you’re going to go around changing bed sheets or polishing armor.”   
  
Arthur glanced over Gwaine at the rather intimate gesture and said, “Well, not for now, anyway. Shall we see more of the castle? I presume you will be taking meals with everyone in the Great Hall. I shall show you where the knights usually sit. Right now, the Dragonlord warriors take up the knight’s table, but you might as well know where it is.”  
  
“Sure- I don’t mind. The grand tour it is.” Gwaine smiled as he scratched the back of his own neck. “And look, I get that this is an awkward time for everyone, but I’d like to meet the other Knights, get some archery practice in, make friends ...”

“I begrudge you not friends,” Arthur said, leading the way along the corridors and pausing in front of the royal bedchamber door. “This is where Merlin sleeps. If you have some need of me, I am on the other side of the castle. You can ask one of the servants.” He continued down the corridor. “These back stairs are a quick way outside, especially if you wish to remain undetected.” He made a turn and went down another hall. “There are only two knights left- Sir Leon and Sir Kay. The others are dead or disbanded and banished.”  
  
“Not much room for the dragons, is there?” Gwaine said as he looked in at the room, not quite joking.

He followed after Arthur, quiet for a few moments as he took in the layout of the castle. Though was a bit startled to hear that there were only two knights left. “I am sorry for your loss, My Lord. It is difficult to lose so much, so quickly.”

Arthur snorted once and nodded shortly. “Thank you. I suppose you would also know,” he said. “And I am sure we will find a way to fit in the dragons. At least Lord Emrys’ dragon. Do you desire to become a dragon rider, as well?”

“Merlin doesn’t-“ Gwaine began, then bit his tongue, for once thinking before he spoke. In this case, it really wasn’t his place to say anything about Merlin and his relationship with any of the dragons. “No. No dragons for me. Horses. That’s all I need.” 

The slip made Arthur frown a little, but he didn’t press the matter. Instead, he said, “Well, a fine mount we can make sure you have, unless you have one you’re already fond of.” He headed down the next staircase and paused to point to another hall. “The King of Elador is staying on this floor in the room on the end, and his retinue is filling the rest of the hall.” He did not linger long, feeling unwelcome in this part of the castle.

“I didn’t come with a horse. Just my clothes and my sword. So ... getting to pick from the stables sounds like a great way to spend an afternoon.” Gwaine said and glanced down the hallway. “Do you like to ride, My Lord? Travel, maybe? Hunt? Or even race?” 

“Yes, all of those things,” Arthur said. “However, until things are settled here, I doubt we will have much frivolity. Soon enough, though, I anticipate we will travel around Camelot and show Lord Emrys around. You know him well, Gwaine? Lord Emrys?”

Gwaine nodded along, thinking that a ride around Camelot would probably be good for Merlin, and Arthur, and the average citizento see them both. “I like to think I do. Merlin is a good friend. A good man. He ... he’s worth getting to know, if you give him a chance.” He added with a little smile. “Though, he can also be hard to get to know. I think he’s used to keeping to himself.”

“Hopefully, he will let the people of Camelot know him, at least as a ruler,” Arthur said. “That will make everything easier for everyone. I’m glad you think he’s a good man. I hope you’re right, for all our sakes. Will you be loyal to him through his reign?”

“He is good.” Gwaine said easily. “Though I imagine right now, Balinor is encouraging him to be cold, but that is not his true nature. He’s not about to begin a second purge, or anything.” Gwaine licked his lips, pausing briefly before he spoke the truth. “Merlin has very powerful magic, but I will always be his friend, and protect him, if I can.” 

Arthur nodded a few times in response to the words and said, “Good. If all things go well, I believe my father will hand over his throne to Lord Emrys in a few year’s time and leave Camelot. Or perhaps retire to one of the far, Northern estates. And if Merlin has managed to capture the hearts of the people by then, I will go into exile with him.”

For once, Gwaine looked quite grave, which rarely sat on his features very well. “My Lord. Why would you leave? This is your home. And these are your people, too. Have you lost all love for Camelot? Whatever you want, or need, I am sure Merlin will give you, if it means you are happy, and that you will stay.” 

“What a strange thing to say,” Arthur said with a glance over at the other man. “Why should Merlin worry about giving me anything or having me stay? When the time comes, it will be better for Camelot and Lord Emrys’ rule, if I depart with my father. For now, he needs to win the people and marrying me helps him in this. Later, I will be an impediment, a reminder of things best forgotten ... and quite unable to give him an heir. The best thing will be to divorce and banish me with my father. I will support him in this as the way to move Camelot forward. And then he can seek a better partner, perhaps one with magic. At the least, one who can bear him children to carry on his line and rule.”

Gwaine stared at Arthur as if he had just grown nine extra heads out of his shoulders and fangs from his eyes, and eyes from his lips. “What a strange thing to say.” He echoed, for very much his own reasons. Gwaine squinted his eyes, suddenly fighting off a headache that was trying to make sense of these things, and also trying to determine if Arthur truly felt this way, or if he was merely saying so because it was expected of him. 

Curious despite himself, Arthur gestured with one hand to Gwaine in an invitation to keep speaking. “What makes you say so, if I may ask?” he questioned. “I do not know Lord Emrys at all, so if I am misjudging something …” If he was, he was not sure what he’d do. 

Gwaine brushed his fingers through his own hair, starting at his forehead and combing his fingers back against his scalp with a thoughtful sigh before answering. “Alright ... I do have the benefit of having known Merlin for many years, and from your perspective you probably see him as some sort of ... conqueror? But he’s really not. He’s not here to rule supreme, or push you out. Merlin is the furthest from a dictator I have ever known. Even though his magic has always pushed him to the top, I think he finds it lonely there. Surely, My Lord, you have some experience as prince ... it can be isolating to be so different from the common man.”

“I believe Merlin is only too happy to share power with you, My Lord. And will do all that he can to keep you close, and happy, so that you will move forward together as partners in the rise and growth of Camelot.”

Gwaine licked his lips, then continued. “As for the personal points you made ... about finding a partner with magic, or that can bear him children ... never once have I heard Merlin express a desire for an heir. Nor choose a lover based on weather they do or do not have magic. My Lord ... when Merlin made his vows to you on your wedding day. He meant them, even without knowing a single thing about you, or how well you might, or might not get along. Merlin will therefore never see your banishment, or divorce as ‘the best thing’. I say this also because, Merlin has some powers of second sight. He would not have agreed to any of this, if he did not believe you would make for a good partner. Even if you never care for him or wish for friendship, clearly he believes your partnership is essential.” 

Arthur brushed off the concerns about power with a shake of his head. “Lord Emrys is now the heir apparent to the throne. Whatever his desires in sharing that power, he is the first and last word on all things. I am gladdened to hear that he will take into account the thoughts and feelings of others and hope he will build a large council. That does not need to include me, at least not indefinitely, to best answer the needs of Camelot. Indeed, Lord Emrys already speaks to me of all the ways my father and my rule is deficient and wrong for the people. I hope he is correct about the improvements to the way things have been done.” He nodded his head once firmly in agreement with his own internal thoughts on the matter. He was unsure if he could ever get over his upbringing, the belief that magic was evil. So long as that was the truth, he would never be a fit leader for a country where magic was allowed and even celebrated.

As for the rest of Gwaine’s statement…

“Would his father, King Balinor, have given him a choice in marrying me?” Arthur asked with incredulity. “I do not doubt that the Lord Emrys meant his vows in the strictest sense. Perhaps he has not the mind for banishing or divorcing me, at least not at this moment. That does not still make it the wisest course of action.” 

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I would ask your forgiveness, a complete stranger, in having me put all this on you, but I do not know Lord Emrys, and so much weighs on my mind right now. As you are someone he has identified as a friend, and a trusted one, I want you to be aware of the lay of the land. You can offer him support and counsel in a manner none else can.”

Gwaine quirked his mouth. “I would normally suggest that we go and talk more over drinks, but we just had breakfast and drinking so early is likely frowned upon.” Gwaine gave Arthur a sympathetic smile. “While it is true that Balinor did not give Merlin, or you, a choice in the matter of marriage, Merlin would not have agreed to it, had he not foreseen something good to come of it. Merlin has a much stronger magic then his own father, and cannot be made to do things he does not want to do.” Which meant he entered into the marriage far more willingly than Arthur had.

“I did not realize he was so powerful,” Arthur admitted, then made a dark face. “Though perhaps it should temper my humiliation at the ease with which he bested me in the field.” A stir of fear churned through his gut, as he thought again of the mighty sorcerer in the middle of the battle, striking down everyone and everything. The force of the blow that had struck he himself down with a casual gesture and a flare of gold eyes. 

Thinking of this, he said, “Our marriage is not destined to be a happy one. Why should we be forced to make it a long one? In other cases, it is necessary ... in this, it is not. Camelot allows divorce, though it is uncommon among nobility. If the public is strong enough behind the new King, then there would be no shame on either side in parting ways. However, your response has prompted my resolve to speak to him about this immediately. Much will need to be planned.”

Gwaine could see that what he had said, had not truly helped. Arthur continued to look pained, and he wished he could offer the other man friendship, even though they had only been introduced to each other that morning. “Yes, My Lord. Of course.” He said with a small bow.

Arthur inclined his head in thanks for the bow and said, “Well, let us continue with this tour. I will introduce you to Sir Leon and Sir Kay.” He picked up his feet again and headed toward the Great Hall. 


	3. Chapter 3

King Balinor Emrys stood on the highest turret of the Castle of Camelot and gazed over the lands now claimed in the name of the Dragonlords. In the few days since the marriage of his son to the heir of Pendragon, there was already tremendous change afoot. The Druids were beginning to appear from their hiding places and resettle their ancestral lands. Small acts of magic were proliferating among those who shortly before would have hidden even the barest signs. Nothing major yet, but still, steps in the right direction.  
  
And best yet, both Pendragons spoke in hushed tones and scuttled along the corridors of their former domain with eyes lowered and shoulders sagged. They were defeated, the murderers of so much that was good in the world, and that was as it should be.  
  
Still, he had concerns for the future, mostly focused on his son and his rule. Balinor had never seen eye-to-eye with Kilgharrah on his harangues about the importance of the younger Pendragon in the growth and blossoming of Camelot. He wanted all Pendragons gone as soon as it might be reasonably accomplished and had heard, in that sneaky way of magic, that the young prince felt the same. Which left only his headstrong son as an impediment to the solidifying his own rule.

“My son,” he said, as he heard Merlin’s approach, “you are late, as usual. What kept you this time?”

“I cannot offer you no excuse, father. I merely move in my own time.” Merlin said, having gotten distracted by Gwaine of course, and observing servants within the castle, while walking at his own speed in order to meet with his father.

Merlin drew his cape around his thin shoulders to block the wind that cut sharply at this great height. Which offered a similar chill and viewpoint as when riding a dragon.

Balinor sighed, but there was fondness in the sound, and turned to his son. “As you do everything these days.” He looked him over, taking in his stature and feeling the power that radiated from every pore. “I am immensely proud of you, Merlin. You will make this land the fine king she deserves.” He stepped forward and put his hands on Merlin’s shoulders. “Tell me, how do you find these first days of your new place?”

“Thank you, father.” Merlin said gently as he met Balinor’s eyes. He of course knew what his father, the king, wanted to hear, but compromised also speaking to what he truly felt. “I am eager to fill the castle, and the lower town, and the surrounding villages, with new friends of Camelot.”

“Merlin,” Balinor said impatiently. “I am asking as much as your father as anything else. Tell me truthfully of your reception by the people and the court ... and by the Pendragons.”

“I have been well received, father. Those that I encounter express curiosity. And for those with suppressed magic, I sense relief.” Merlin drew in a breath and glanced to the horizon, his mind and his body not always in the same place. “Uther Pendragon has spoken very little to me, and that is perhaps for the best. And Arthur has shown me respect and deference, and willingness to support my rule.”

Balinor smiled and nodded a few times. “Very good. This pleases my heart to hear. Still, you must be careful of both Pendragons. You know they cannot be trusted, Merlin, for in their hearts, they still believe all magic to be evil. And most of all, you must beware of the younger Pendragon. I know how Kilgharrah still natters on about your destiny. About that, you must harden your heart.”

This was where father and son would always diverge their paths. Merlin had been raised by Kilgharrah just as much as he had been by his father and mother. And Merlin had long ago stopped trying to help bring light to Balinor’s closed off heart. It only caused conflict between them. Merlin loved his father, but he trusted Kilgharrah’s words, and the ancient knowledge and magic that the dragon shared with him. “I will be careful, father.” Merlin nodded once in obedience. And that was true enough, after speaking with Kilgharrah, Merlin knew that he should show more care with Arthur, instead of smothering him with the affection and the hope that was in his heart.

Balinor’s sigh was tinged with disappointment and worry this time. “I doubt that very much. You care for Arthur Pendragon ... Arthur Emrys.” He shook his head. “But he does not care for you and he never shall. That is no fault of yours, my boy. You are the best of men. The best of sorcerers, but always will you be tarred by that. Just as he is tarred by the blood he has spilled in his father’s name. Do not tie yourself to him forever.”

Of course it hurt to hear that Arthur might never care for him, even though their lives were destined to be intertwined. But Merlin also knew his own resolve. He would remain loyal to their shared destiny, even if Arthur never changed. This time Merlin could barely look his father in the eye, but nodded once more. “Yes, father.”

“Merlin ... it brings me no joy to advise you this way. You have a great deal of love to give the right person. Why can you not go seek this right person for yourself? As mistress or queen or consort, however you wish to acknowledge your other half.” Balinor studied his son’s face. “What promises have you made Arthur?”

Finally Merlin lifted his gaze, blue eyes swimming with old magic as he looked to his father. “I have promised not to harm him.” And had promised not to force him into intimacy, though could not tell Balinor that, otherwise he would know that Merlin had not consummated the marriage. “And given my vows, in marriage, which were woven along with magic. But aside from that ... he has asked for nothing, demanded no promises.” 

“We need not harm them anymore than we have already done,” Balinor agreed. “What shall you do with Uther Pendragon?” He wanted to see that his son could do the difficult things, and neither of them had any love for the old king.

“Uther Pendragon has already agreed to your terms, to become exiled after two years.” Merlin gently reminded. “However, my concern is that he will hold onto resentment and hostility for this take-over. I worry that he will become an even more dangerous enemy of magic, then he was before. The fate of Uther Pendragon is a lingering concern, as it is not yet something that is resolved in my mind.”

Balinor made a low noise of agreement. “In these two years, you can ease into the role of leader and cement the end of the Pendragons. And what of heirs? Have your thoughts ranged that far as yet?”

“No, father. It has not.” Merlin admitted. It had never been an interest of his, regardless of the gender of his lover, to have children or produce an heir. Though he understood it was expected. If Camelot becomes what it is meant to be, it shouldn’t need Merlin’s bloodline in order to continue.

“Do not leave that too long, Merlin,” Balinor advised. “I wish to return home in a few days, but only if you feel comfortable enough for me to do so. I am still happy to leave a few more of the dragon riders. You should have some warriors until things are settled.”

“I understand, father. There is no need for you to be here, when home calls to you. I will have things in hand. And what I do not, I will.” Merlin assured. Though it was wise for Merlin to keep a few warriors close for the time being, just to ensure that there was order.

“And what of a dragon for you?” Balinor asked. “You should long ago have had one of your own, my son. And we should facilitate their return now to Camelot.” He could not offer Kilgharrah, which he half-regretted, since dragon and man loved each other very much.

“I will keep Aithusa close, as I have always done.” The rare white dragon was too young for anyone yet to ride, but more then that, he was not bonded to a Dragonlord. Not even Merlin, who had given the dragon his name, and thus bringing him into the world. “More than that, I can only ask for dragon lords and their dragons to volunteer to remain.” 

Balinor knew he must content himself with this. “I shall instruct five of our finest dragon riders to remain with their mounts. I would begin the building of a fine stables for the dragons. There is nowhere for them to shelter and the colder weather will be upon us shortly.”

“Yes, father. Of course.” Merlin said with a nod. He of course wished that Kilgharrah could stay, but even as heir and future king, he had no right to ask. The most Merlin could hope for, was that Kilgharrah would answer his call, should he desperately need him.

“Tonight, I will announce my departure within a few days,” Balinor said. “Uther Pendragon and I have a last meeting tomorrow and will release our final treaty.” He smiled, though it was cold, and said, “I have squeezed all of the blood out of the man. If he survives his two years, I will be much surprised.”

“As will I, father.” Merlin admitted. Uther was perhaps at the lowest point in his entire life. And he would either get revenge for it and prove even more dangerous than before, or he will fade away into history. Merlin hated to think this way, but a part of his heart believed it was best if Uther were dead. Though that would be far too cruel for Arthur, and he genuinely wished to spare Arthur such grief. 

“He brought this on himself,” Balinor said fiercely. “Remember that he tried to kill Kilgharrah. That he lured him with lies and attempted to strike him down! Your childhood friend. What happens to he and his son now should be of no concern to us, except that it cannot stop our making a new beginning for Camelot.”

“I know, father.” Merlin pressed a hand to Balinor’s arm, wishing to calm his anger. “Believe me, I will never forget, or forgive, Uther Pendragon. What consequences come, it of his own making.”

“And his son shares in his blame,” Balinor said. “Do not be gentle on him, Merlin, not in any facet.” And his tone made clear what that meant. But then he softened, knowing his son would never condone such an action. “Forgive me, Merlin ... sometimes my anger at the Pendragons leads me in the same evil ways his anger at us has.”

Merlin listened to his father and bit at his own lower lip. It was not in him to be as cruel as Balinor had begun to imply. Nor could Merlin bring himself to hate Arthur, as he did Uther. Yet he knew that this was a source of fear and disappointment for Balinor, who felt Merlin would be betrayed by these feelings; wanting him instead to be stronger and more forceful. “I understand the anger you feel, father.” Merlin assured and placed a hand on Balinor’s shoulder, even though physical affection between them was uncommon. “But I must act in ways that are right, in my heart.”

“I know you understand, Merlin,” Balinor said. “And I know you do not feel the blame extends to the son, as it does to the father. I merely ask that you tread carefully with them both. Your life means everything to me.” He cupped Merlin’s cheek with one hand and smiled at him, an uncommon gesture for him. “I can hardly believe you are already so grown up. A married man and soon to be a king. This Arthur ... it would make you happy if he loved you, wouldn’t it?”

Merlin swallowed, unable to hide the truth in his eyes, when he and his father were standing this close to each other. Especially when Balinor cupped the side of his face and held his gaze as he did now. “Yes, father.” Merlin forced himself to admit. It was a truth that Kilgharrah already knew, but telling his father was different. “It would make me happy, for there to be love between the old and the new. For two powers, pulled from different extremes ... to come together ...” Merlin dropped his eyes, knowing that Balinor would not enjoy hearing this, but spoke the truth anyway. “It would make me happy, if Arthur loved me.”

“You never have been one to choose the simple path,” Balinor said. “How goes your relationship with your new husband then? Given the situation of your marriage and your first marriage night ... I would imagine it does not go easily. Arthur is not used to being bested in anything.”

“You should have no concerns, father. Arthur wants nothing to do with me, and has mentioned several times that he is willing to go into banishment with his father, when the time comes.” Of course Merlin did not want that, even if that was perhaps the safe choice. 

Balinor blinked a few times at the words. “He has told you this, Merlin?” he asked, surprised by this revelation. “I am surprised, but also not. The young Pendragon has a great deal of pride. He was to be king. But now, he’s been relegated to your consort. A show piece of our victory. To escape that, I am not surprised that he would prefer banishment ... to be forgotten.”

“Yes, father.” Merlin said gently. “I imagine he sees it as a way out.” But right now, Merlin was holding onto the promise of destiny that Kilgharrah had often spoken of. Though in the back of his mind, Merlin also knew that if things should go poorly, he would need to give Arthur the divorce he wanted, and carry on without him.

“But you wish him to remain at your side ... to be your true husband,” Balinor said, reiterating what Merlin had already told him and also thinking aloud. “So, we must come up with a strategy to help him see what an amazing man you are. And to have something to stay for. A reason you need and want him here ... a start.” He smiled then, a rare expression, but one that gentled his face considerably. 

Merlin however kept his eyes down, not used to hearing his father speak like this. “I did not think you would support my desire to keep him as my partner to the throne.” Merlin carefully met Balinor’s eyes. “You are not angry, father?”

“I am concerned,” Balinor said, “but how can I be angry that you have inherited your mother’s heart and belief in the good of people? And who more than you deserves to be loved?”

Merlin smiled a little. “Thank you, father.” He knew that his mother and father loved him, and that his friends loved him, and even Kilgharrah loved him, in the way that dragons showed their favor for the mortals in their lives. But even with all that, as fortunate as Merlin was to be loved by those who were close to him, he still wished for the intimacy of a loving relationship, a partner to share his life with. “I know it must seem like madness to you, to want Arthur Pendragon to feel anything for me ... but I cannot help but feel drawn to him, bound to him in some way ... even though I am the only one to feel it.”  
  
“We do not know that he does not feel it,” Balinor reasoned. “He is a man beset by many powerful emotions right now, all of them negative. He needs a chance to settle and hopefully, find some peace. After that, perhaps better emotions will be able to reach his heart again. So, my son, as I asked before, what can we do to help him?”

It was promising that Balinor wanted to speak of these things, and that he was willing to listen to Merlin. “I have asked Arthur to train Gwaine as a Knight of Camelot, to start. But hope to give him more men, to fill his ranks, and his days, by teaching the skills, and morality of a knight.”

“What do you suggest, father?”

“Do you believe he teaches the right things to his knights?” Balinor asked, curious as to this aspect of Arthur’s character and how his son had found him so far.

“Before we came to Camelot-“ Merlin began, admitting to a few secret insights. “I had observed the Knights Code in action and believe it has good foundations. It will flourish, without Uther abusing his power, to send the knights on missions that are contrary to their teachings. Still- I wish to see for my own eyes, if protecting the weak or fighting for the welfare of all is merely something they say, or if it is in fact something they will do, and prove with their actions.”

“So, you are not so blinded as to believe he is good intrinsically. You wish proof,” Balinor said. “I am heartened by this. And yes, allowing him to maintain his role as head of the knights may help him settle some. What else might be offered to him to allow him some semblance of peace and contentment? A way to make up for losing the throne ... at least in part. I am not sure there are amends enough for that.”

“I cannot yet say, father. At this time, Arthur’s only interest appears to be seeing me get a handle on Camelot, and then leaving. I cannot coax him into speaking, into admitting the sort of things that would make him happy, that would give him purpose and a reason for staying.” 

“So, if one cannot get it from the man, one must find someone who might be able to tell you in his stead,” Balinor reasoned. “Obviously, Uther will not be of any assistance. Perhaps one of the remaining knights ... though they may question your reasoning … Does the Prince have any other friends or perhaps a servant who may know him well?”

Merlin nodded quietly in agreement. “I do not know that Arthur has ever been allowed to have friends. But I will take the time to observe him, and see if there is someone who might be willing to speak openly, on his behalf.”

“I believe the key is still patience, my son,” Balinor said. “His world, as yours, has been completely altered without any warning. He needs time to adjust and to know you. In time, if he is the man you and Kilgharrah believe, he will see your goodness, Merlin. And how lucky he is to have married you.” He patted his shoulder again, affectionate as best he knew how. “I wish your mum were here to see you now.”

Merlin shyly met Balinor’s eyes. Merlin might be more powerful and have a great destiny, but Balinor was still Merlin’s father, and would always be held in high regard in his heart. Even though he knew that his father did not believe Kilgharrah, when it came to matters of Merlin and Arthur’s destiny. So he knew to be grateful for this show of support. “Thank you, father.”  
  
“I need no thanks, my son. I know the road I have set you on is a difficult one,” Balinor said. “You are to be king of a land that has been taught to fear and hate magic and sorcerers. On you rests the weight of changing their minds. I do not envy you this task I myself have set you on. It is my duty to help you as I can. My responsibility not only as a king, but as a father. Perhaps a gift to your husband …”  
  
“I have considered it.” Merlin admitted. “For now, I wish to see Arthur become more at ease, more himself as he returns to his duties as a knight. After- once I am certain a gift from me will not be immediately rejected on principle, I will give it more attention.” 

“You are wise, my son,” Balinor said with a smile. “If there is anything I can do to help you with either your kingdom or your husband, I am at your service, Merlin. There is nothing I wish more than for you to be successful at both. Now, come, let us go stroll outside. These walls are confining.”

A slow, pure smile grew over Merlin’s face. Father and son might not always agree, but they did agree on this. They were Dragonlords. They were meant for endless horizons and clear blue skies. They were meant for lush forests and open fields. The warmth and heart of a dragon nearby. Not cold walls or confined spaces. “Yes, father. I would like that.”

“Excellent,” Balinor said. “And perhaps tomorrow you might ask your husband to go for a stroll and show you his favorite places in Camelot. A way to learn more of him and your kingdom.” He wrapped an arm around his shoulders to lead him away.


	4. Chapter 4

One afternoon, Merlin found himself in a hallway he had yet to explore. There were a few low archways and a stretch of stone wall that only had a few narrow windows built along the corridor to supply daylight. And while Merlin was not entirely sure of where he was going, there was a familiar scent in the air, of herbs and oils, potions brewing over a low flame, and dusty parchment.

Merlin continued to follow his nose until it led him to a small workshop, where each of the smells he had recognized were given validation, as he saw bottles and bowls with familiar medicinal plants and remedies, all collected on thin shelving, with heavily inked text labeling each one.

“Hello?” Merlin called gently as he passed the threshold. A flash of memory from his inner eye came to mind, of some other time, when he knew this place well. It wasn’t real of course. It was merely an echo from when Merlin had spent time within the crystal cave, and seen many different futures play out, one on top of another. 

Gaius looked up from his potion table, where he was busy mixing a batch of tonic for fever. He did not recognize the voice that called out for him, but many people visited him in his role of Court Physician, including many a new patients. “Please come in,” he called. “I will be happy to help you in a moment. I need to finish with this tonic. If you do not mix the last ingredients just so, the whole mixture goes wrong.”

Merlin followed the voice, navigating a few more large storage shelves before he saw the court physician at his work table. “I will not rush you.” He said and kept his distance to watch the man work. Images from an alternative life continued to flash in his mind, including the brief sight of this man and his one drooping eye fix him with a look of worry. 

Gaius looked up from his work and widened his eyes, barely keeping from knocking the potions to the floor. “Your Majesty,” he said and bowed slightly. “I did not recognize your voice. Forgive me for finishing my potions ... they really are tricky.” He stepped back to complete his work, hands moving with care and skill. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I was merely following my nose ...” Merlin indicated to a bowl of herbs that had clearly been picked the day before and were slowly fermenting in their own juices. “What is your name, physician?” He asked, having not been introduced. 

“I am the Court Physician, Gaius,” he said with another bow to the new heir to the throne. “I have served the throne since Uther was crowned king. I presided over the birth of his son ... and the death of his wife.” He finished off his potions and poured them out into small vials, capping each of them and labeling them carefully. “And I have magic. A very little, but enough to serve my patients.”

Merlin smiled easily, showing only friendship. “Yes ... I sensed a little of that too.” He moved closer once Gaius put a stopper in each of the vials, then invited himself to sit on a bench, near the work table. “I imagine, it has been difficult for you at times, to divide yourself between Uther’s law, and your ability to help people.”

Gaius nodded, face solemn and sad. “Many times I considered leaving Camelot, but I thought of Arthur and his mother, Ygraine, and did my best to serve the people and them. She was the finest of women, and I see much of her in her son.” He looked over Merlin and said, “Though perhaps it was a wasted effort in the end.”

“Why do you say that?” Merlin asked and gestured for Gaius to sit as well, to speak with him. “Is Arthur not a fine man?” He prompted, wanting to know an inside perspective on the Pendragons, especially Arthur.

“Arthur will not be king,” Gaius said softly. “You have taken his place as heir.” He sighed once, thinking of how long Arthur had dealt with his father, struggling to become his own man and yet, doing terrible things to obey his laws. He slowly settled into a chair. “I do not blame your father for retaliating when Uther attempted to kill the Great Dragon. I advised him against it, but his hatred drove him on.”

Merlin listened, then nodded in acknowledgement as Gaius expressed his understanding as to why the Dragonlords had gotten involved and come here at all. “Do you think-“ Merlin continued gently, “Is it not possible-“ He started again, “for Arthur to do good for Camelot, even though he will no longer be king? Or is that title essential?” 

Gaius arched his infamous eyebrow and said, “I think much of the boy. Having no children myself, I have often thought of him as akin to a nephew. I hoped when he ascended the throne that much might change in Camelot. With time. But change has come much more swiftly than that. Brought my others. Perhaps, Sire, you might tell me what good you wish him to do.”

“Hm.” Merlin sighed softly and glanced down to his hands, folded in his own lap. “I want ... I want Arthur to fulfill his destiny. To be the Once and Future King. To unite Camelot in a golden age that will be remembered for centuries to come, echoed far into the future of human history. I want Arthur-“ Merlin lightly closed his eyes as he pulled the visions from his mind. “To stand with me, and form a society that all others will wish to live up to.”

Gaius’ eyebrow was now clinging for life to his forehead. “You speak very strangely of a man you barely know, Sire. A man who is, or was, a declared enemy of the Dragonlords. It is an open secret that you do not share a bed. Your relationship in public is politely formal. And yet, you speak of his standing next to you, like a true partner. Is that truly what you wish?”

“Yes, I suppose I do.” Merlin said as he opened his eyes and smiled softly at Gaius. “I will tell you, Gaius, I was raised by the Great Dragon, just as much as I was by King Balinor. And through the magic and knowledge of such a dragon, I have been tempted towards a future I hope is possible. A beautiful destiny that I wish for, with all my heart. A future which includes standing with Arthur as a true partner.”

“I would be most pleased if Arthur had a good partner,” Gaius said. “I believe he is a very lonely man ... I know he was a lonely child. There were no children that were allowed close enough to him to be his friend. And Uther has never been a very warm man, not since Ygraine passed away. He loves his son, but he’s never been able to show it.”

Merlin nodded solemnly as he listened and easily imagined the kind of difficult life Arthur had under Uther. “I would like to ask you, Gaius- what you think would make Arthur happy? Within the circumstances we both find ourselves in. I want him to feel in control of his own life, despite what has unfolded. I want him to feel strong, and find meaning in some passion that is close to his heart. Can you, Gaius, give me any clue at to what this might be?”

“Arthur is a very private man,” Gaius said. “He has excelled in the ways of a knight. But I have never been sure what he has done out of duty and desire to please his father and what he has done because he himself desired to excel. However, I am certain that taking care of the people of Camelot means everything to him. His horses have also been one of his passions.”

This was a good start. Before, Merlin had attempted to offer Arthur too much at once, and it was clear now that Arthur didn’t know what to do, or ask for himself, if it was not related to his duty as a prince and a knight. Now Merlin knew that Arthur was not purposefully being difficult in his answer, it was very possible he simply did not know what he wanted. “It is not his father that he needs to please any more. Or even me. It is his own conscience and heart that I wish to see him pursue.”

“I am not sure he even knows how,” Gaius confessed sadly. “Uther began educating him early on how to be a king, how to conduct himself, how not to let others close so they might attempt to influence him …” He shook his head a few times. “Perhaps the best thing you can do for him, Sire, is allow him his freedom. A chance to discover the world.”

Merlin quietly sucked on his own lip. He was not sure he could give that to Arthur. Merlin knew he would have to reflect on this, to come up with a solution that was best for Camelot, and Arthur. “Thank you, Gaius, for that insight. This is indeed helpful.”

Gaius chuckled warmly, but there was still that hint of sadness. “I would help you, if I could,” he said, “since I find myself believing that you want to be good for Arthur. I am not sure why I believe it, but I do. Arthur deserves someone to care for him.”

“I do.” Merlin whispered. “And in time I might be able to prove it, to you, and Arthur, and Camelot.” Merlin allowed his gaze to become distracted by the details of the room, old books open to desired pages, and every surface covered with a tool, or bottle, or half eaten meal. “Do you have needs, as a physician, that have not been met? Are there things that would be useful to you, Gaius?”

“A helper would be most useful to me,” Gaius said. “Now that magic is allowed again, someone with some small skill in the healing arts would be of great value. Male or female makes no difference, as long as the person is willing to learn and work.”

Merlin smiled fondly at Gaius, even though they did not know each other at all, Merlin still had a sense of another life that might have been. “I will look into finding you someone suitable.” Merlin promised. 

“Thank you, Sire,” Gaius said. “Do you and Arthur speak together regularly? I have often thought he would benefit from having someone to listen to him, to really hear him. From someone who thinks his ideas have merit.”

“We do speak every day ... though I would not call it enlightening.” Merlin said, twisting his fingers together in his lap, quietly fidgeting. “Nor does Arthur seem willing to share anything he is feeling, or thinking. His responses are almost all a matter of duty.” But Merlin was going to do better, try to listen more, and give Arthur the freedom to express himself.

“I would be happy to offer you my ear,” Gaius said. “If you are willing to trust an old man who’s served a man like Uther all his life.” He offered a warm smile to the younger man. “I believe you may need one the same way Arthur does.”

“For you to have served Uther, means you know how to keep a secret.” Merlin said, considering the offer. “The Great Dragon has been my friend since I was an infant, but he will be leaving with my father within a few days. Camelot will be mine ... but my family, and my friends will no longer be with me. Therefore, I might in fact take up your offer and speak with you on occasion.” 

“If Arthur can come to understand that you need a friend, too, that might help you talk to each other,” Gaius advised. “So neither of you need to feel alone or be alone.” He tottered to his feet and back to his potions. “May I ask Arthur to help me with distributing my potions?”  
  
“Oh.” Merlin blinked and got to his feet, watching Gaius return to his work. “If you believe that he is willing.” 

“I think it will help him feel useful,” Gaius said. “He used to help me before his father forbade it. He did not like him going to the Lower Town.” He raised his eyebrow at Merlin. “Perhaps if you tell him that I could use his help. I am an old man ... I don’t get around as well as I used to.” He smiled at Merlin. “You understand, Sire?”

“Yes, of course.” Merlin smiled a little, understanding that it needed to be mostly Arthur’s idea, based on a suggestion, rather than an order. “I will leave you to your work, then. Thank you, Gaius, for being willing to speak with me.”  
  
“You do not have to rush away, Sire,” Gaius said. “However, I need to make a poultice for Mistress Kistleweight for her bad knees. They tend to swell with too much use.” She was, in fact, a rather trying patient, asking often for new remedies for minor ills.

“I do not want to distract you from your work.” Merlin said fairly. “After all, I stopped in unannounced. And you undoubtedly have a routine of work and patients that fill your day.” 

“It does an old man’s heart good to have a visitor,” Gaius said. “A long time ago, the Queen used to visit almost everyday. She was a beautiful person, Queen Ygraine. A kind word for everyone, noble or commoner. And she was never more lovely than when she carried Arthur. You could see the hopes and dreams for the baby, for her son.”

Merlin approached Gaius as he worked, watching his old, but skilled hands go about familiar work. “Are you willing to tell me more about her? Why was magic to blame, for her death ... the catalyst for such pain, for so many others.” 

“The marriage was barren, Sire,” Gaius said, “but the fault was not Ygraine’s. Still, both of them longed for a child. So, against the advice of Nimueh, who was the Court Sorceress and myself, they used magic to conceive Arthur.”

A chill rushed up the back of Merlin’s neck, aware of the power of such magic. He even glanced down and briefly tried to imagine what it would be, to conceive a child by magic; to carry a child, give life, where none otherwise could exist. “Being born of magic in such a way, is no small thing.” Merlin shook his head.

“There is always a price,” Gaius confirmed, “and they thought they were willing to pay that price. But it turned out to be Ygraine herself. She died giving birth to Arthur, and Uther blamed magic itself. And all those with magic.” He hung his head. “And thus was the Great Purge begun.”

Merlin sighed heavily. Wanting an heir at any cost was one thing to say, or think, but once set into motion, could not be undone. A single event, that brought one life into the world, and took another out of it, and yet, destroyed so many other lives in its wake. Uther truly had brought this upon himself.

“A fear and anger in magic, that Arthur was forced to believe in.”

“He does not know,” Gaius said. “I think he would be devastated by the truth. That magic was condemned because of his life. That he himself is born of magic. That he owes his existence to it.” He ground the herbs more energetically, remembering the terrible night when Ygraine died.

“Gently, Gaius. Gently.” Merlin stepped in and held his hand out, showing that he was willing to take over the task. “The oils from the leaves must be pressed out, not smashed. Please, let me-“ He offered easily, clearly not thinking the work was below his station. 

Gaius nodded and stepped aside. “Medicine must be done with a clear head,” he agreed. “Thank you, Sire. Are you trained in the medicinal arts?”

“Some.” Merlin admitted as he rolled up his long sleeves, to keep the fabric clear from the work. He had the fingers and hands of someone skilled with fine objects, things that were small and precise, not large and heavy like swords.

Merlin patiently and gently worked over the fibers of the plan, extracting the oils and leaving the stringy pulp aside.

“You have the hands of a healer.” Gaius observed. “As Arthur has the hands of a warrior.” He took down some additional herbs and started a new mixture, one for headaches. There were several patients who suffered frequently from the pain of them. “Will you tell me how you’ve found your time in Camelot so far, Sire?”

“It is early, and difficult to say. I have observed some people with magic, still cautious, as if fearing the moment that they come out, things will go back to how they were during the Great Purge. And yet I have also observed others who are embracing the change, setting out alters on their window ledges, or practicing small forms of magic with members of their family. It is promising to see, here in the heart of Camelot. Still, it is clearly too soon for many. Some do not know what to make of me.”

“You are new to them and replace a well-loved man as the heir to the throne,” Gaius said. “Bringing magic back to the kingdom is the right thing to do. The balance has for too long been off. Perhaps only a sorcerer as powerful as you can restore that balance.” He began to shred the leaves carefully.

Merlin smiled a little, flattered that this man, essentially a stranger, would think this. “To be truly balanced, I must have Arthur’s support. It cannot be up to me, alone.” Merlin said as he continued to make the potion for Gaius, unprompted and without the need for instruction. 

“Arthur’s birth might have been facilitated by magic, but the boy does not have a drop in him,” Gaius observed. “Uther could never have stood it if Arthur had any magic.” He wondered if that was the key, a magical being (the most powerful known) and a man born of magic, possessing not a bit of his own, paired together to rule Camelot.

“Now Uther must tolerate magic in his home. With his son.” Merlin said, a little coldly. He spoke an easy spell, mixing the ingredients to perfection, before he pouring them into a bottle for Gaius to then give to his patient. 

Gaius nodded a few times in understanding, but said apologetically, “You know Arthur does love his father, Merlin. For all his, admittedly horrible, faults.” He hoped Merlin would comprehend what he was trying to imply with some delicacy. Diplomacy was not his strongest suit.

Merlin glanced to Gaius and nodded once. “I am not here to turn Arthur against his father. But nor is it my role to forgive Uther. I am merely here to move Camelot forward.” 

Well, perhaps not.

So, he tried again.

“I did not mean to imply, Sire, that you would attempt to turn Arthur against his father,” Gaius said. “However, if I may, Sire, it perhaps does not imply endearment of Arthur on your part to so clearly ... loathe his father.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It does not follow that you would care for the son. Indeed, it would imply the opposite.”

Merlin sighed. “I am not perfect, Gaius. I ignore Uther’s words, his mere existence in these halls. I do not know that I can do better. At this time, that is the extent of my kindness towards Uther.” 

“I do understand, Sire,” Gaius said and went back to his potions. He did not want to upset the new heir, nor to poison his mind against either himself or Arthur. He also felt a twinge of sorrow for Uther, who was his longest living friend. The man had done terrible things, as misdirected grief and anger could make a man, but Gaius remembered the better man, still saw flashes of him sometimes. And he mourned what might have been, as he had for years. 

“Do you believe I treat Arthur with the same indifference?” Merlin asked. He did not believe this to be true, since he felt so strongly about their bond and their shared destiny, but perhaps he was not seeing clearly, as others saw him.

“I have not seen much of you with the ... with Arthur, Sire,” Gaius admitted. “But might he not think your hatred for his father and what he has done might similarly reflect your feelings for him? Arthur obeyed and carried out his orders.”

That of course was a fact that Merlin chose to ignore. “Arthur is not his father. Nor am I, mine.” With a subtle golden glow of his eyes, Merlin lit the flames in the fireplace, which began to heat a pot of water that had been hanging there, cold, since the day before.

“No, he is not Uther in many ways,” Gaius agreed and continued with his work in careful silence. “I hope I have not offended you, Sire.”

“Not offended ... but concerned, now, that Arthur might think I hate him. When that is not true.” Merlin sighed, and walked over to watch the water come to a slow boil. Then dipping in two mugs, filled each with the hot water which he set on another work surface. There he began to add in chamomile flowers and a few broken pieces of cinnamon. All this he did without asking, but felt no guilt over helping himself to the supplies in the room, as they were common enough. “How long has it been since you have had Druid’s tea?” He asked as he finished preparing the drinks that only people with magic knew to brew.

“Many years, Sire, as you must suspect,” Gaius said. “I look forward to seeing Druids again mingling in Camelot.” He watched Merlin skillfully brew up the tea. “If I may, I will send a note to Arthur requesting his assistance. Perhaps he will enjoy a cup of tea with us before I send him off.”

“Yes, if you wish.” Merlin said gently and set the two cups aside in order to find a third. However, once he found another cup to use, it clearly had been sitting dirty for some time, forgotten, so Merlin took the time to clean it.

Gaius called for a page and sent the note for Arthur, who appeared after about 15 minutes, knocking before poking his head in. 

“Gaius, you have need of some assistance?” Arthur asked, before noticing Merlin. His whole body stiffened, assuming a formal position. “Forgive me, my Lord, I did not know you were here.” He glanced between them with a hint of worry in his expression. “Is all well?”

Merlin smiled kindly, having cleaned the third cup and made another brew of Druid’s tea in the time it took Arthur to arrive. “Yes, Arthur. All is well.” He said as he sat at a table, the three cups sitting and waiting to be enjoyed. Merlin gestured to Gaius and Arthur to sit. “I came to visit the court physician today, only to find out that Gaius could use an assistant at times. I have promised to find someone who has an interest in medicine that might apprentice to him, but in the meantime, I was hoping that you might be willing to aid him.”

Arthur frowned a little and glanced at Gaius. “I did not realise, Gaius, that you were lacking for assistance. I would have gladly helped you find someone to aid you. However, since my Lord has already promised to address your needs, I will leave you in his hands.” He stepped forward. “If there is something I may do to assist you until that time …”

“I would be grateful, dear boy, if you might distribute my weekly medicines to the Lower Town. There are places that are more difficult for me to walk to these days,” Gaius said.

“Of course,” Arthur said. “With my Lord’s permission.” He looked back to Merlin. 

“Yes, Arthur. I was hoping that you would be willing. Thank you.” Merlin said, drinking from his cup in little sips. “Won’t you sit and have a drink with us?” He asked, though could see that Arthur felt a little tricked into being here with Merlin.

“A drink?” Arthur asked.

“A Druid tea that I have not had for years,” Gaius said. “I will sweeten it some with honey.” He pulled a small pot of honey out of the shelves of items. 

“Of course,” Arthur said and took a seat along the workbench. “I am surprised to see you here, my Lord. Although Gaius is an important part of the court and the workings of Camelot.” He smiled at the older man, whom he regarded as a kind of uncle.

“My feet found their way down here, and I am pleased they did. I have not had the opportunity to be introduced to Gaius before now.” Merlin said and took another sip of his tea. “He is a knowledgeable and talented physician.” 

“That was an oversight on our parts, for which I apologize, my Lord ... and to you, Gaius. I am certain much will change in the healing arts with this new regime. Gaius has kept the people of Camelot healthy and treated their illnesses since before I was born. It is more than time for you to have an extra pair of hands to help you. Still, I have missed distributing your medicines and am glad for the opportunity.”

Merlin was happy on Arthur’s behalf, that he was getting the opportunity to do some work that he apparently enjoyed. “Yes- and I expect that he will continue to do so, for years to come. It is not just knowledge, but also experience that is necessary for the healing arts.” Merlin said, wanting to assure Arthur, and Gaius, that he was not going to be replaced or discharged from his duties.

“Still, an apprentice to teach my knowledge to and share the work with is something I would be most grateful for,” Gaius said. “That will allow me to serve for at least a few more years.” He spooned some honey into his tea and offered it to Arthur.

“Thank you, Gaius,” Arthur said and dropped some into his tea, having a bit of a sweet tooth. “Do you have someone in mind?”

“Not yet. I was only just made aware of the need, today.” Merlin said, watching Gaius and Arthur together. “Do you already know of someone who would be interested, Arthur?”

“Not as such,” Arthur said. “I assume some sort of formal process will need to be followed. I know what was done in the past, but I am certain you have other priorities, my Lord.” he sipped his tea and made a pleased face.  
  
“Yes, Arthur. My priority is to return you to the head of the knights.” Merlin said. He was happy to see that Arthur was willing to drink the tea, and that he even appeared to like it. And yet he could not bring himself to smile. All he felt was Arthur trying to push him away, using formality and duty as an excuse.

Arthur nodded and said, “Geoffrey has prepared the ceremony, My Lord. He is ready to perform it whenever you and the King are prepared. However, I am sure my father will defer to you for the ceremony. We can call together a meeting ... with your permission, of course, my Lord.”

“Good. Thank you for inquiring, Arthur. We can gather this evening, before dinner.” Merlin said with a little smile. “Unless you need to defer it to another day, for personal reasons?” He asked, not wanting to rush Arthur, but also wanting to show that he would not delay and ensure that he was reinstated as soon as possible.

“So soon? Of course, my Lord, I would be delighted. Shall I inform the Court? I can before I take Gaius’ medicines to his patients. It will take no time.” Arthur sipped his tea.

“Yes, thank you, Arthur.” Merlin said and mirrored Arthur by taking another sip as well. Soon Arthur would be Knight of Camelot once more, and be able to move a bit more freely, doing something he was familiar with. “I will inform my father that it has been arranged.”

“King Balinor did not mind your decision to retain me as Head Knight?” Arthur asked. “I do not wish to cause a rift between you and your father.” He meant that completely, thinking how much his father meant to him, no matter how wrong.

“That is considerate and thoughtful, Arthur. But my father, King Balinor, supports me and the decisions I make.” Which was perhaps the opposite of Arthur’s relationship with his own father, though it was not meant as a personal jab at him. “You will not receive any resistance, Arthur. And I hope that the position makes you happy, and more like yourself.” 

Arthur ducked his head in acceptance of the words and said, “I am pleased to hear it is so, my Lord. However, if I may ... more like myself? I am not sure what you mean by this, my Lord. Have I displeased you in some way? Acted in a manner unbecoming to my station?”

Gaius kept his head down, focus on his tea and potions, though he listened with interest. He did want to learn more of the relationship between the men. He wanted the best for them both and for his kingdom.

“No, Arthur-“ Merlin looked down into his cup before meeting Arthur’s eyes, voice calm and gentle. “I only meant, returning to your duties as a knight is something that you like, it is a role you identify with. Rather then ... being defined by being my husband, you can be more yourself, among your knights.”

“Will you or someone else run a similar training program for sorcerers?” Arthur asked, as the notion struck him that there should be something for those who fought with magic and not swords. “Certainly, I cannot be of any use in that, my Lord.” He avoided the rest of Merlin’s words completely, unsure how to answer. 

“No. There will not be separate training.” Merlin said. “If someone comes forward to be trained as a knight, whether or not they have magic, they will be trained by you. No exceptions. There is only one knights code, and you are the head of the Knights of Camelot. If they cannot abide by your training, or meet your standards, then they are not worthy of it.”

“I cannot help anyone with their magic,” Arthur confessed. “Is there someone who might be able to assist me with that kind of training, my Lord?” He was warmed by the idea that Merlin would allow him to run the knights as he saw fit, so he wanted to offer his own conciliation by acknowledging magic and his lack of skill and experience with it.

Merlin fidgeted by petting his finger behind his own ear. “If someone requires training in magic, then it will be arranged. But my meaning, and wish, Arthur, is that all your knights, even those potentially with magic, should learn to fight with the sword and bow and shield, as any other knight. There are ways to strip a person of their magic, and if you have a knight, whose only talent is in magic, then they have suddenly because useless to you. They will be trained without magic, just like any other.”

Arthur noted the odd twitch, but didn’t show that he had in any way. “Yes, my Lord, that makes a great deal of sense. I will inform you if anyone seems to require training in the magical arts. I hope to put out a call for new knights to audition in the days following my return to lead. There are some changes to the old rules which I wish to make.”

“Yes, Arthur. Of course.” Merlin said and made sure to hold his cup with both hands to keep from engaged in his nervous habits. “What changes did you have in mind?” He asked, feeling that this was only fair, since Merlin was going to give Arthur his full support.

“I wish to open knighthood beyond the nobility,” Arthur said. “Anyone with the desire and skill to serve should have that opportunity. I also wish to allow women to try out for the knighthood. I realize both of these things are far outside of the rules that have been long-established, but I have seen and learned enough to know that both may serve well as defenders of the realm. With your leave, of course, my Lord.”

“Both of these changes sounds perfectly reasonable, Arthur. And much needed in order to bring in new ranks. After all, more than the nobility, and more than just men should be able to defend their homes, their families, and their country. The responsibility falls to everyone. This is something that the Druids understand, as do the Dragonlords. Women with magic hold powers that men do not, and are every bit as worthy in a fight. I support you in these changes, Arthur, for a better Camelot.”  
  
Arthur managed a small smile of gratitude, though felt his teeth grit a little at the reminder that once again, Camelot was behind in all things. He wondered if the other man did it deliberately, these pokes at how backward his country was, how much it had to catch up and make up for. 

Setting aside his tea, Arthur rose and gave a bow to Merlin and a nod to Gaius. “I will go speak to the court and take your potions. You have them prepared, Gaius?” He turned to the older man with a genuine smile. 

“Of course. Let me fetch them for you, my boy,” Gaius said.

Merlin set down his cup and stood, to see Arthur off. In his heart, he still wanted to show him affection, to kiss the side of his cheek, or touch his arm, or hand. But he also knew such gestures would be unwelcome, and Arthur would only interpret them as Merlin trying to exercise power over him, which was not what he wanted. “I will see you tonight, Arthur, for the ceremony.” 

“Thank you, my Lord. I will try not to embarrass you,” Arthur said and turned back to Gaius as he approached with a satchel full of medicines. “I will return when these are distributed and let you know if I had any problems, Gaius. I will also give your patients your regards, if I may.”

“Of course, my boy. Of course,” Gaius said and squeezed his arm. “Thank you for acting as my messenger today. I will attend the ceremony tonight, as well.” He paused and looked to Merlin. “With your permission, of course, Sire.”

“Yes. You are very welcome to attend.” Merlin said, his stomach always twisting whenever someone asked him for permission, when such things should not need his say-so. Merlin took it as an example of how tightly Uther controlled others, and therefore that is what the people here were used to.

Gaius nodded to him and looked back to Arthur. “I will be there, with pride, as I always have been.”

“Thank you, Gaius. My Lord.” Arthur acknowledged them both and left with a long stride they could hear for many steps.

Gaius sighed and returned to his workbench. “Would you like more tea, Sire?”

Merlin stood still and quiet for a moment, at first not processing that Gaius was speaking to him. “Hm? Oh, no thank you. I should go.” He said with a faint smile that was not truly happy, but at least expressed kindness.

“You are welcome to stay as long as you like, Sire. And I hope you will visit again ... frequently, if you have the time. I realize that you will be extremely busy as King, but I would like to see get to know you, if I may,” Gaius said.

“Thank you, Gaius. I believe I will take you up on your offer. And of course-“ Merlin gestured to the room with one hand, “If you need anything, you may come to me at any time.”

“Of course, Sire,” Gaius said. “I hope you will not need my skills too often, but I will be happy to serve you ... and your subjects.” He stepped forward and reached out, before dropping his hand, unsure of the welcome. “There is much trust that needs to be built, but I believe you can manage it, Sire.”

“My subjects are all of Camelot, now. Not just the ones who arrived with me.” Merlin gently corrected and touched his hand to Gaius’ arm in place of shaking his hand. “Thank you for your confidence, Gaius. I will see you this evening.”

“I know this, Sire. I never meant anything else,” Gaius said equally gently. “Trust must be built from both sides.” He nodded to the new heir and returned to his workbench. “I look forward to this evening, Sire.”


	5. Chapter 5

Entering the royal bedchamber, Merlin brought several candles to light with a mere look. It brightened the dark room, as it was well after dark now. The dinner after the ceremony had stretched on longer then any other in the last few days. Perhaps because tonight, people felt there was something to actually celebrate and be happy for. Arthur was Knight of Camelot once more. Life as they knew it had not changed so drastically after all. At least not in this.

Arthur followed Merlin tiredly, feeling his feet drag a little on each step. He’d perhaps overindulged a little in the wine this night, wanting not to disappoint those who desired something to celebrate. But he did not exactly share their buoyant emotions about the entire affair, so the wine tended to drag him down, instead of up. 

Pausing at the door, he removed his boots and set them there for later retrieval. “I apologize, my Lord, for the lateness of the hour of our departure. I should have left sooner.”

“There is no need to apologize, Arthur. The court wanted to celebrate the return of your title. There is nothing wrong with that.” Merlin said as he entered into the bedroom they still only pretended to use.

Taking off a few layers of his dress robes, Merlin hung them up on the wardrobe door. He would change into something to sleep in later, but for now he was comfortable enough. “Would you like something to eat or drink? To clear your head?” He asked, going to the window and opening it a little so that a subtle gust of fresh air entered the room.

“Thank you, no, my Lord, I drank more than enough,” Arthur said and settled into a chair near the cold fireplace. “I hope you were not displeased by the court’s celebration. I did not expect such a reaction.” He leaned heavily back into the chair and closed his eyes, trying to will the room to stop its gentle swaying.

“Not displeased, Arthur. I expected as much. Though-“ Merlin picked up a woven wool blanket from the end of his bed and slowly approached Arthur. “I much rather be assured that you are happy with the outcome.” He said, laying the blanket over the arm of the chair, offering it to the other man, without imposing it upon him. Though he did start a small fire in the fireplace, offering a gentle warm glow to the room, which Merlin found comforting to sleep by.

Arthur lifted his head briefly as he sensed Merlin approaching and forced himself not to tense as he did when an enemy combatant neared. He nodded thanks for the blanket. “I am grateful for the chance to rebuild Camelot’s knights, my Lord,” he said. “I hope I will do a competent job, so they may be worthy of the title of knights.” He looked into the fire, started by magic, but pleasant nonetheless.

“Perhaps tomorrow-“ Merlin began, “as one of your first duties as Knight of Camelot, you might show me around the city?” He moved back and sat in another armchair opposite Arthur, able to look at him eye to eye. “Without entourage or ceremony. I simply wish to see the city, as you see it.”

Arthur contemplated a moment (longer than necessary due to a bit too much drink), but then nodded slowly. “Yes, my Lord, I would be pleased to do so. Have you had much opportunity to venture beyond the castle since the battle?”

“No. I have not.” Merlin said with a little smile, pleased that Arthur seemed willing. “I shall entrust you to show me, all and everything that you can ... or at least, deem worthy of sharing.”

Arthur tilted his head and said, “It would take weeks to show you everything, my Lord, but I hesitate to say that what I value is all that should be valued.” He noted the smile and answered it with a slight tilt to his own lips. “I do not know what things a sorcerer may think worthy. Still, I will do my best.”

“Weeks, hm?” Merlin pretended to consider, even though the thought was already on his mind. “Perhaps after breakfast, we will go for a three hour ride. And do the same, the following day, and the following after that as well.” He said, giving them a three day commitment, as a start. “As that will still leave room for other duties in the afternoon.”

“By your command, my Lord,” Arthur said. “I will make sure both of our mounts are ready for tomorrow morning, after breakfast. Do you know where you would like to start first? I would suggest the Lower Town so that you might meet some of the more common people, who do not always get to visit the castle grounds.”

“I trust your decision, Arthur. We will start in the Lower Town.” Merlin said, trusting him, even if the feeling was not mutual. “I am looking forward to it, Arthur. Thank you for being willing to show me around yourself.”   
  
“I am interested, my Lord, in learning what parts of Camelot are of most interest to you, as well. If I am to serve you in my role as consort, I would know your leanings. And hope you will see some of mine, as well,” Arthur said. “Perhaps we may deliver more of Gaius’ potions and remedies. That is a good way to meet people.”

“Yes, Arthur. I think that is perfectly reasonable.” Merlin said and pulled another blanket off the end of the bed, though this time wrapped it around his own shoulders, draping it like a heavy cloak before he sat back down again.

“I have an interest in farms, agriculture, irrigation, and community water supplies. I am interested in skilled workers and artisans, improving upon that which already exists, or creating things that are new.”

Arthur noted these things in his head and said, “I will make sure to accommodate all of those interests, my Lord. That will take some little time, but our well system is complicated, but serves our needs.” He sat up and lifted the blanket Merlin had set near him in offer. “If you are cold, my Lord.”

“Not cold, exactly-“ Merlin said and smiled a little, wanting Arthur to understand. “But I am accustomed to the warmth of dragons, the heat of their breath, and their bodies, pressed close. It is why I prefer to sleep by the fire, then a cold bed.”

Arthur looked around the room and said, “You may change your rooms in any way you desire, my Lord. There is no reason for you to sleep in a bed or place that displeases you. You need not even sleep in the castle ... though I tell you things you know, of course. You may do whatever you wish.”

“Thank you, Arthur. But there is hardly room for a dragon. Even a small one.” Merlin gave a little shrug. “And anyway, Kilgharrah will be leaving with my father.” Even though all dragons were kin, Kilgharrah was his best and longest friend. “So I need to become accustomed to sleeping as I am meant to. Indoors. In a bed.”

“I did not know one would make another choice, when not traveling, but why should you not sleep outdoors if you so choose, my Lord?” Arthur asked. “And is Camelot not to continue to be home to dragons now that a Dragonlord will be her King? It seems strange if not. But that is not my decision to make.” He shrugged again, as if it were so easy to remove all the power from his shoulders.

“For now, a few Dragonlords will remain behind, with their dragons. But they will not make a permanent home of Camelot, as I will. And I do not have a dragon bonded to me, as the others do.” Merlin attempted to explain. “So at times, Camelot may in fact be without a dragon.”

“Will you one day, my Lord, have a dragon bonded to you? If I may ask, of course. I do not know the ways of Dragonlords, not really, but I believed that all would eventually have a dragon partner.” Indeed, Arthur had dreamed as a child of how amazing it would be to have a dragon as a warrior partner. He envied the Dragonlords their mounts and relationships with the great beasts. Before his father forcibly ended those ideas.

“Perhaps ... someday.” Merlin said softly, though it was not Arthur’s fault for unknowingly stumbling upon such a sad subject. “For now, any dragon will answer my call, and respond to me, as a brother. But it is not the same as having the knowledge that one dragon is loyal and devoted, to only you.”

“No, I suppose there is nothing like knowing that any being is loyal to you alone, my Lord,” Arthur said. “However, you will have the loyalty of both Camelot and your kingdom. And with luck, a dragon of your own, as well, my Lord. So, there is much for you to be glad for.” 

Merlin was quiet for a moment, then smiled at Arthur. “And here I was, wanting to cheer you up, and you’ve done it for me instead.” He nodded, thanking Arthur and acknowledging the truth to his words. 

“Cheer me up, my Lord?” Arthur asked, suddenly uncomfortable. “Forgive me if I indicated such a thing was necessary. It was not my intention. Nor am I aware of any need for cheering.” He knew the words for a lie, but wondered what Merlin had seen. 

“Arthur- you do not need to apologize for being unhappy. I know you are unhappy, so there is no need to lie. Our positions are difficult enough, I do not want lies to add to our problems.” Merlin said and shifted the blanket from his shoulders, to across his own lap as he got more comfortable in the chair, folding his legs on the cushion under him, rather than keeping his feet on the floor. “I know you want a divorce, I know you want to leave as soon as Camelot is stable ... I know you were raised to be a King, and that has been taken from you. And I wish ... I wish I knew you well enough .... to ease the heartache you feel every day.”

Arthur fought the urge to deny or to fold his arms over his chest in a defensive position. “I have made no complaints verbally to any, my Lord. Nor shall I. You have been kind enough to not force the consummation of our marriage, for which I am more than grateful. But yes, in truth, I am not happy, though I am doing my best not to let it show to my people ... those who were my people. I understand your wish, your need, to win their loyalty, and they may feel some small remaining closeness to their former prince. I will do my duty by you in this, my Lord, as I swore to do when we exchanged vows. You owe me nothing. But ... thank you for wishing to be kind to me.”

Merlin listened to Arthur quietly, then sighed softly. “You have been very good in showing your support, Arthur.” Merlin agreed. “And have been raised with a much stronger sense of duty then I was.” The corner of his mouth pulled up in a half smile. “It probably sounds strange to you, that I wish you to find joy in your life, and not just in service of your obligations. Still ... it is in my mind, and my heart to say: If you need anything, desire anything ... I will do what I can, so that this is not such an unhappy marriage for you.”

“I find it odd, my Lord, yes,” Arthur said softly, “because you have no reason to think anything but ill of me. And you do not know me ... do you? Have you heard tales of me that I am unaware of?” He shook his head a few times, as if dismissing thoughts that did not matter. “That you would make this offer ... it makes me wish I had an answer for you, my Lord. Do you- is it your intention to allow me to have a strong voice in leading Camelot, my Lord?”

It was true that Merlin did not know Arthur, not really. He had heard some stories about Arthur and his knights, defending those who could not defend themselves, even those outside the boundaries of Camelot. Over time, a few stories would reach Merlin’s ears, but he did not mention them now. It was far more important that he address this last question. “Yes, Arthur. It is indeed my intention. Camelot will have two kings. Not King, and consort. Kings.” He repeated. “You have a voice that still deserves and needs to be heard, equal to that of mine.”

Arthur studied his face for a long moment, searching out the truth in his countenance, before he ducked his head, eyes closing. ‘Yes, I believe you ... Merlin. I do not know why this should be so, but I believe you.” He lifted his head again, blue eyes seeking blue, and he offered the first real smile between them. “You deserve a husband who at least knows who you are. I should like to know, to learn about magic and sorcerers and all the things that my father taught me to hate.”  
  
Merlin smiled, then beamed, a brightness of hope in his eyes. “Yes, Arthur. I am happy to teach you anything you wish to know. Magic. Dragonlords. Sorcerers. And answer the questions you do not know how to ask, as well as the ones that you do. I am happy to share with you, anything that I can.”

“And-“ Merlin swallowed, “Will you in turn teach me about who you are?”

“There is very little to know about me,” Arthur said. “My life has been rather public since my birth. Not much of note has added to what everyone knows ... but I will answer what questions you may have. Now, if you wish it.”

“I suppose ... what has been public knowledge to the people of Camelot, is mostly unknown to me.” Merlin said as a hundred curious questions pressed into his mind at once. “There are many things I want to know, Arthur. Though you might consider them dull. So if you become tired of my questions, you must say so.” Merlin shifted forward in his chair, very happy that they were getting an opportunity to talk in a somewhat normal way. 

“You expressed from the beginning a desire for our marriage to be a success,” Arthur said. “If it is to be one, even as a civil partnership, it would be easier to know each other better. So, what would you like to know?”  
  
Merlin chewed on his lower lip, not wanting to bombard Arthur with questions. And yet, that was exactly what he did. “What season do you prefer? Do you enjoy watching theater troupes or musicians? What was the name of your first horse? What weapon do you prefer in battle? Is it different in a tournament? What sort of dreams to you have at night? Do you have have a favorite article of clothing? What do you like about Camelot the best? Where would you like to travel?” Merlin paused abruptly. “Sorry. Uh ... sorry. I can repeat any of those questions. Answer what comes to mind first.”

Both of Arthur’s eyes went wide with surprise, and he laughed despite himself. He felt even more shocked at that. “You meant what you said ... wanting to know everything about me,” he said. “My favorite season? I guess it’s fall, right as the first harvest starts. There’s a sense in the air. And the weather is pleasant and there is the most food for everyone.”

“Yes. I agree.” Merlin said, delighted that Arthur was willing to answer, but also pleased that they had this in common. “For those same reasons.”

“Perhaps we might exchange questions,” Arthur suggested. “Although I am not sure I remember many of the others you asked me. My first horse? Her name was Marietta, and she was a pony. I was five years old and rode, according to my first teacher, like a sack of potatoes. Certainly, she tossed me off enough times.”

Merlin grinned, easily imagining Arthur as a child and doing his best to hold on and find center on a bouncy little pony. “Yes, of course Arthur. You may ask me anything.”

Arthur tipped his head in thanks and said, “I suppose ... I would know what it feels like to have magic. If there is a way to describe such a thing in simple terms. Having no means of knowing myself and knowing nobody with magic, I have no way to understand you or the change you bring to Camelot. Only the words of my father ... and I know they are not unbiased.”

Merlin rubbed the palm of his hand over the side of his jaw, then around to the back of his neck as he considered how to explain. “I have never been without magic, so to me, it is one of my senses, like seeing or hearing or breathing. It is always apart of me.” Though Merlin knew that answer was not entirely helpful, so tried again.

“When you forge a new sword, you must heat the metal, and sometimes if you are doing it long enough, you can see the heat rise through the steel, glowing brighter orange as it moves through the metal. When I go to use magic, it is like that ... sometimes. Moving through me with great intensity until I give it an outlet.”

“Is that ... helpful?”

“I- no.” Arthur laughed again, still surprised by the feeling that went with the sound. “Except that it was born in you. A part of you. If my father is to be believed, that would have made you corrupt from birth ... and I cannot believe that. I know some people are capable of learning magic, but I think I am magic deficient. I am right, am I not?”

“I- I cannot say.” Or should not say. “Those who are not born with magic, will generally learn from their parents when they are very young. Developing upon any natural skills they might have. For you- if you did have any natural skills as a child, they would have been quickly suppressed.”

Merlin glanced to the fireplace, thinking briefly before he came up with a suggestion. “May I touch your hand, Arthur? I would like to show you something.”

Arthur nodded and held out his hand in offer to his husband. “Of course, if I may ask what it is you intend to do with said hand. Curiosity is why I ask ... for I find that I trust you ... Merlin.”

Merlin stood, leaving his blanket behind on his chair and approached Arthur. “I am going to help you know what it is like to feel magic.” He said and reached to take Arthur by the hand. “This just feels like normal touching, right? Just the sensation of skin, the warmth of our hands ...” Merlin then held out his free hand. “Put your other hand on top of mine, but leave space between the skin. As if an apple were pressed between them.” 

Arthur nodded and lifted his hand, placing it where he thought Merlin meant. “Such as this?” he asked, wanting to be sure.

“Yes, thank you. That will do.” Merlin said with a little smile, wanting to be reassuring. “Now husband, you are going to feel magic move from my body, into yours, and you’ll see for yourself, what magic feels like.” He said, letting magic flow from his fingertips, wrapping around Arthur’s hand and gently swimming through his body until it found an outlet, wanting to escape Arthur and return to Merlin, completing the circuit of magical energy, as a soft blue orb of light began to form between their two hands that were close, but not touching. “Tell me ... in your own words, how does it feel?”

“It feels- it feels-” Arthur closed his eyes and tried to find the words, but they eluded him. For he had never felt anything like what surged through him with every pulse of magic shared between them. Warmth. Safety. Strength. Care. Home. He shook his head and felt his body shake with the sensations. “Like I’m bathed in light,” he managed. “Immersed in it from head-to-toe and it’s trying to ... warm me from within?” He opened his eyes to look at Merlin, sorry for his lack of poetic ability. For it would take a poet to describe with any kind of clarity how he felt.

“Light?” Merlin smiled slowly, pleased and surprised that Arthur would experience magic this way. Usually only others with magic associated the feeling with light or darkness. Merlin pressed the ball of light back into Arthur’s hand, and closed the gap between their palms until there was contact, until they were holding both sets of hands, allowing the magic to circle through both of them, in an endless loop until it was just a matter of being. “Does it frighten you, Arthur? Or is this good?”

Arthur frowned a bit at the questions. “Frighten me? I know I am not an elegant speaker, but I did not realize I had so missed the mark. No, my Lord, it did not frighten me. It made me feel quite safe. Quite happy.” He looked at his enclosed hand and then back at Merlin. “You didn’t intend to make me feel frightened, did you?”

“No, Arthur.” Merlin said gently. “It is not my intention to frighten you. But you have admitted to being afraid of magic, before. So I wanted to be certain, that feeling magic move through you, was not unsettling.”

“It should be terrifying, shouldn’t it?” Arthur said. “Who knows what you might have done to me. Made me witless. Turned me into a toad ... though some might say you are too late on that account.” He offered a real smile at himself. “Perhaps turned me into your obedient slave. But I said I trusted you ... and for some reason, I do.”

“Thank you for your trust, Arthur. I hope to never disappoint.” Merlin said, petting a thumb over the top of Arthur’s hand before he let go, ending the flow of magic through them. “Now you know what magic feels like. Or at least, what my magic feels like.”

Arthur noted again the affectionate touches and blinked again at Merlin, slow and contemplative. “And does your magic tell you something about me?” he asked.

“It could, if I were to pry.” Merlin said and stepped back. He had asked permission to hold his hand, that was all. Turning slightly, Merlin sat back in his chair across from Arthur and smiled a little at him. “It is the equivalent of hearing people talk behind a door. I and press my ear to the wood and listen in, or I can keep walking. So unless I have your permission, I don’t listen in.”

“I didn’t mean that ... at least, I don’t think I did,” Arthur said. “So, if you listened in ... what would that tell you?” 

“Thoughts or feelings are usually the easiest to identify. Especially if you are thinking to yourself over and over about the same thing, or feeling strongly about something. After that, it takes a little more effort, for instance to read into someone, to tell if they are sick or unwell, or cursed, or under the effects of a potion or spell.”   
  
“With permission, that would be a good way to look after someone you cared about,” Arthur mused. “A little intrusive … Perhaps not until we know each other better. I guess it’s your turn to ask something. In the interest of getting to know each other better. _Mer_ lin.”

It was a good sign to have Arthur call him by name, rather than title. It meant that Arthur was becoming comfortable with Merlin, and that was good for their future together. “Do you enjoy music? Or dances? Theater? Or art?”

“Well, I admit that my father’s minstrels have gotten a little timeworn, but I always enjoy hearing the newest ballads,” Arthur said, though he didn’t add that he especially enjoyed some of the ones that described his own heroics and tournament wins. “But balls tend to be awful ... or were awful. I guess I don’t have to worry about scheming women anymore. Do you dance?”

“Even though you are married, there may still be people who want to get close to you, to feel important by association with the power you have. In this, I wish you to be careful, if you do decide to take a lover, to ensure that they are not using you. And as a courtesy, simply inform me, so that I can make sure you have time to devote to your relationship.” Merlin and Arthur had touched on this before, but Merlin said it again, wanting Arthur to be assured he could still seek out happiness elsewhere. “Perhaps with someone who can dance. Because I admit, I cannot. My skill is very poor.”

Arthur bowed his head in acknowledgement of the words, but said, “I have no intent on taking a lover, but if that changed, I would not let you be caught unawares. I have managed without a lover for this long, however, so I believe I will be well. I do not mean I do not have experience, but no lover of any duration ... man or woman. And I am happy to practice dancing with you, if you would like. As the future King and his consort ... or partner King, as you please, we will be expected to lead off a lot of balls.”

“Thank you, husband. I would appreciate practicing with you, so that I do not look completely foolish. I admit, I was not raised around balls or formal dances, tournaments, or similar customs. In these, I do not necessarily know what is expected of me. But you were raised with this experience, so I will be relying upon you, co-King.”

“Once you are King, you can forgo the pleasure of dancing,” Arthur said, “but I am happy to give you a few lessons. I can arrange something with one of the court musicians, as it’s always easier with some music. I was taught from a young age, though I’ve never enjoyed it as much as other noble pursuits. The art of battle, of being a knight, or hunting and horsemanship, those have been my chosen fields. Though I’m sure you do know that. I’m terrible at art and honestly, find most of it boring. But I can admire a good painting or sculpture.” 

Merlin nodded, understanding that Arthur was more a man of action, preferring physical activates, especially those which took him out into the world. “Thank you for being willing to help me in this way.” He paused, then carried on. “It is your turn. What question do you have for me?”

“I have some small education on the matter, but truthfully, I am not sure how much is even the truth,” Arthur said. “Tell me how the Dragonlords truly live. You speak of sleeping outside and not participating in dancing or other similar pastimes to which I have been brought up. Do you not have any castles or similar court proceedings?”  
  
Merlin smiled kindly, not minding the question and happy that Arthur was willing to listen to the truth, from the source. “We have a few structures, towers beside cave entrances, and a few scattered up the coastline. But nothing like this, nothing that is a fortress, or castle. And therefore, no court of nobles to host.” Merlin began to address these differences. “Many Dragonlords are nomadic, traveling with their dragon companion, to whatever is naturally the dragon’s territory. They might migrate in small clans, or family groups, but some Dragonlords are known to be entirely solitary.”

“My father, Balinor, the King has been matched with Kilgharrah most of his life. And Kilgharrah is a Great Dragon, with a large territory, that he shares with smaller, lesser dragons, and therefore their Dragonlords.”

“You must not like being stuck in Camelot’s castle then,” Arthur said. “We could arrange the tour of the country sooner rather than later, so you can get out for awhile. If we split the country into sections, we may make several journeys to break up these first months for you.” He made a considering gesture. “We could even arrange a place for you to sleep safely outdoors during good weather, if you wanted.”

“Thank you, husband. Touring the country would be very welcome. And in the years to come, I imagine that I will want to make similar journeys at least once a year.” Merlin swallowed and glanced to the fireplace. “I am a Dragonlord without a dragon. Once Kilgharrah leaves with my father, I will have no reason to sleep outside. It it best that I adapt to the ways of Camelot, the customs of a King.”   
  
“You don’t have to be without a dragon, do you?” Arthur asked, still very curious about that. “I don’t mean to prod a sensitive issue, but you are an exceptionally powerful sorcerer and the son of the King. You seem like the prime candidate for a dragon.”

“Thank you, husband.” Merlin said and dropped his eyes. “But I must wait until a dragon chooses me.” He paused a moment before meeting Arthur’s blue eyes in the dim firelight. “For example, you might have noticed a white dragon among the ranks. His name is Aithusa, and I called him from his egg, into this world. However, we are not bonded. He is still looking for his match. Though, he is still young and considered small for a dragon and can not bear a rider yet, even though he is twice the size of a horse.”  
  
“The dragon chooses the Dragonlord,” Arthur mused. “Can anyone be chosen as a Dragonlord? I mean, do dragons sometimes choose random people? Do some of them never choose?”

“There are no rules to the process.” Merlin admitted, which probably sounded chaotic to someone like Arthur who was used to assigned social dynamics from birth. “Dragons have a much longer lifespan then me or you. They are willing to wait hundreds of years, if that is what it takes. And yes, there have been times when a dragon bonds with someone who is not a member of the Dragonlords. Though usually it is misinterpreted as a dragon kidnapping a child, but the truth is the dragon has made their choice of mortal companion, and due to their nomadic nature, never be heard from again.”

“I do hope being a Dragonlord is worth being hauled away,” Arthur said. “It seems sad for a dragon to end up bonded with someone who will die and leave them alone for centuries … can they not have more than one bonded companion?” He paused and smiled apologetically at Merlin. “I’m running over on questions.”

“I do not mind, husband.” Merlin said with a little smile, feeling that these truths about who and what Merlin was, should be a priority. “Dragons do often bond again. There was some dragons that will bond with an individual and his family, over generations. A father, his son, then his son, and so on. There are others who will go into mourning for hundreds of years before they choose to bond again.”

“So, the Great Dragon may bond to you someday ... in the hopefully distant future,” Arthur said. “Sorry. Sorry. Your turn now. I’ve over-asked.” He still wondered at how Merlin continued to call him husband, such softness in his tone. “Whatever you want to know.”

“It is possible.” Merlin confirmed. “But it is considered impolite to talk about it with my father. And taboo to talk about with the dragon in question while they are still bonded. A part of me hopes to be worthy of him, should that day come. And another part of me understands that Kilgharrah may want to mourn and spend time away from humans for a while.” Because this was a subject that Merlin couldn’t talk about with anyone else, it was a relief to be able to talk to Arthur about it.

“I have many questions for you, but it is very late. I wish for us to do this again. Sit and talk at the end of each night, just like this. For now, perhaps we should retire to bed.”

Arthur arched both of his eyebrows at the words and asked with a hint of play. “Are you ordering me to bed, _Mer_ lin?” He was already rising to his feet though, ready to head to his own room. “I would be pleased to speak to you again tomorrow, my Lord.”

Merlin stood as well. “It is not an order.” He said, not knowing Arthur well enough to recognize this as play. “Merely a courtesy for us both, as it is late, and we have an early morning.” He wanted to reach out and touch his arm, but also remembered that he was meant to hold back on the physical affection that confused his companion. “I look forward to speaking with you again, Arthur. Good night, husband.” 

“We shall see much more of each other,” Arthur assured with amusement that his husband had taken him so seriously. “I suppose there are a lot more questions I have for you, as well. I will be taking a short stroll this evening before retiring.” He bowed slightly to the other man. “Goodnight.”

Of course Arthur could do whatever he wished. He didn’t need permission, or even have to tell Merlin his activities. But he smiled, pleased that communication remained open between them. “Good night.” 


	6. Chapter 6

Their first day tour of Camelot’s lower town started with Arthur and Merlin accompanied by a half-dozen guards, but in his normal way, he ended up leaving them all behind. They started with the obvious, the smithy run by the town blacksmith, Cole. His wares were plain, but strong, and used by most of the townsfolk. He also talked in a loud, rambling fashion and never seemed to run out of ridiculous stories. It was easy to leave several of their guards behind there, laughing and gossiping.

Next came the baker, who made the best bread in Camelot. He helped himself to several rolls (though not really, he always made sure to overpay) and left the rest of their guards splitting a giant cake (also care of Arthur). He then led Merlin to several rows of cottages. All the people knew him and he introduced them to their future king. The children seemed especially taken with their new wizard king-to-be. There was a lot of giggling by some older girls around them both, but Arthur ignored it as he always did. They sojourned around a few additional streets, before he paused and asked, “Want to visit my favorite shop?”

It turned out to be an enjoyable day for their walk through the lower town. Clear skies with a light breeze on occasion. It was good to see things from the ground, the routines and the lives of the people. For the most part, Merlin listened and observed, though asked the occasional question, or greeted an individual Arthur had introduced him to.

“Yes, please.” Merlin said with a smile for Arthur, happy to hear and see Arthur so animated, rather than beat down as he had been the last few days.

“Will seem odd to you, my favorite,” Arthur said and led Merlin to a haberdasher, run by an elderly lady who greeted her former Prince with a hug. “Lady Violet,” he greeted her with a warm hug back. “I want you to meet my husband and your future King, Merlin Emrys.”

Ms. Violet, for only Arthur called her Lady, curtseyed as far as possible, and said, “A pleasure to meet you, Sire. Welcome to Camelot. What a fortunate man you are, Sire, to have married Arty.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Violet.” Merlin said with a brief smile, intrigued by Arthur’s informality with this woman. “And you are right of course, I am very fortunate to have Arthur as my husband.” 

Arthur made a dismissive noise and gestured to Merlin. “My husband dresses rather flashy, being a Dragonlord and all, but I believe he’s still missing something.” 

Ms. Violet nodded a few times with a considering face. “Indeed, he could use a little extra.” She headed into her neat rows of clothes and fabrics, humming a contented song.

“Lady Violet used to tend my mother before I was born. My mother gave her the money to start this shop ... so I like to buy things here,” Arthur said.

“I understand.” Merlin said and briefly placed his hand on Arthur’s arm, before he remembered himself and let go. “I imagine it has been a source of comfort, to have this connection to your mother, all these years.” 

“Much of what I’ve learned, she’s told me,” Arthur said. “My father has never been able to speak of her at all, and others have also been reluctant. Gaius has also told me a little, when we were alone.” He picked up a cape and spread it out in front of Merlin. “Dashing, my Lord.”

Merlin smiled at Arthur, delighted that he was being so easy and carefree. “You think?” Merlin glanced down at the fabric, then at the others in the room. “What would you dress me in, Arthur?”

Arthur wrinkled his nose and said, “I’m not exactly into fashionware, my Lord. However, a cape would suit you.” He set the garment aside as Ms Violet reappeared with a set of scarves in various colors.

“I believe one of these would suit you, your Majesty,” she told Merlin, holding them up. “They are made of silk. Unusual in Camelot.”

“Oh-“ Merlin’s attention was drawn as Violet displayed several scarves to him. He reached out and rubbed each one carefully between thumb and finger. “These are very fine, Lady Violet. You have connections in the east?”

Arthur grinned at the older lady and his husband. “Lady Violet has all the best connections, when she chooses to use them.” He had, in fact, gifted her with the silk fabrics, enabling her to make lovely garments for those who would not otherwise get to wear them. These were some of the remaining pieces, made into small items.

“Blue perhaps?” she asked, lifting a piece that came near to matching Merlin’s eyes.

“The blue is very nice ... however, so too is the red.” Merlin said and examined each one, pretending to make the difficult decision. “How about I take them both? One for now. One for later.” He said with a gentle smile.

Violet beamed and lifted the red one to him. “This one, to go with your current outfit, Sir,” she said. “Shall I put it on for you?”

Arthur was already laying money on the countertop for Lady Violet, a beaming smile on his face. “You’ve won another heart, my Lord.”

“Thank you.” Merlin said and bowed down to her level so she could place the scarf around his neck. “I imagine we will visit again.” He said softly as he met her eyes.

Violet carefully and fancily arranged the material around Merlin’s neck, smiling as she settled it in place. “Perhaps,” she suggested in a tone only Merlin could hear, “you might like to get something for your husband?” Her eyes slid to Arthur. “He is very handsome, is he not, Sire?”  
  
Merlin locked eyes on her, listening carefully to her soft words. “Very handsome.” He said, with a slight glance to Arthur. “What do you suggest, Lady Violet? What do you have, that is special enough for Arthur?”

“New leather gloves in perfect white,” Violet said. “They will protect his hands from the cold ... and keep them softer for you, Sire.” Her smile turned a trifle sly, brown eyes gleaming at him. “I was married once, too.”

Merlin could not help but smirk, even if her imagination was not entirely accurate. “And I imagine, you know his glove size and have a pair for him already, don’t you, Lady Violet?”

A faint blush stained the older woman’s cheeks, but she tipped her head defiantly at her future king. “I may have a few pairs in the appropriate size, but I can make a new one, if none suit.” She patted his chest a couple of times.

“Wonderful. Thank you, Lady Violet.” Merlin stood up straight again and gave a kind smile, even though the touch had been unexpected. Then turning to Arthur he looked to him for approval, “What do you think of my scarf? I quite like it.”

Pleased with the response of both men, Violet returned to where she kept ready made pairs of gloves. She glanced back at them with a smile, thinking they were a handsome duo.

“Yes, it suits you somehow, my Lord,” Arthur agreed with a smile. “Lady Violet always manages that ... I don’t know how.” He glanced to where the elderly lady still examined her wares. Stepping forward, he asked softly, “Do you like the Lady Violet, my Lord?”

“Yes, husband. I like her. The Lady Violet knows her craft, as well as knowing you.” Merlin answered. “I have asked her for a gift that you might enjoy. Will you accept?”

“Of course. I will accept with pleasure. Thank you.” Arthur glanced to where his friend was now laying out the gloves. “If you will confess that Lady Violet suggested it and you could not resist her.”

“Yes, husband. I admit that it was her suggestion and that I have taken her advice.” Merlin said and lightly touched the side of his arm to encourage Arthur to turn and walk with him, so that they might go over to where the Lady Violet was laying out gloves for Arthur to try.

“You do like that term for me,” Arthur observed as they approached the selection Lady Violet had set out for them. “You shall have to explain why to me sometime.” He looked over the gloves and smiled. “These are all exquisitely made, my Lady. Merlin ... do come pick out one for me.”

Merlin nodded once, willing to answer Arthur’s question, though also felt it was obvious. That was what Arthur was, his husband. Why should he call him any less? “Let us see.” He said and touched his fingertips over the different leather gloves. Some were softer than others, but all were made with great attention to detail. Selecting a cream colored pair that had been worked until the leather was soft, Merlin offered them to Arthur. “Will you try these on?”

Arthur carefully took them out of Merlin’s hands, their fingertips brushing softly. He carefully slid them on, finding without surprise that they fit perfectly. “They were made for me,” he said with a smile at both onlookers. He held up his hands for them both. “What do you think?”

“I think they look good on you, husband.” Merlin shifted his gaze to the Lady Violet and smiled at her. “Thank you for your suggestion. I think these will do.” This time Merlin went into his own coin purse that hung close to his hip and laid out a few coins in payment. However, it was Dragonlord currency, and not that of Camelot. As Dragonlord coins were raw pieces of gold and silver, melted flat in dragonfire, and lacked imprints, as such were found on the coins within Camelot. Though even without these identifiers, the coins were worth their true value, as they were not mixed with lesser metals, as found elsewhere.

Lady Violet beamed at them both and took the money from Merlin. “Oh dear, this is far too much, Sire.” She handed him a few coins back. “I am glad you like the quality of my wares, Sire. I hope you will return ... with or without Arty. I can tell you tales of his boyhood.”

“Lady Violet-” Arthur said, barely refraining from hiding his face behind his newly gloved hands. “I am sure Merlin need not hear what a true horror I was.”

“Oh-” Merlin smirked. “On the contrary. I look forward to hearing the unfiltered version.” He gave Violet a knowing glance. “I will indeed return, thank you Lady Violet. I am happy to have met you today.”

Arthur groaned theatrically, but gallantly kissed Lady Violet on both cheeks. “Keep the money, darling,” he whispered to her. “Use it however it helps.” He straightened and fixed Merlin with a serious expression. “Just don’t you believe all her lies about me. I did not fashion myself a crown made out of sticks when I was six and run around wearing it for days. No matter what lies you tell us.” He winked at them both.

“Oh, no. Of course not.” Merlin said with a little smile. “Still … I might like to hear the story anyway.” He said, and this time hooked his arm with Arthur, doing this instinctively, instead of remembering to show reserve.

Arthur would never do anything to embarrass any of them, so he did not react to the gesture other than to smile a little more. “Thank you for entertaining us, Lady Violet. And for your handsome garments. We will be by again.” He moved toward the door with Merlin.

“Goodbye, dears! Do come again soon!” Violet said, waving at them both with a bright smile. They had definitely made her day.

Merlin kept his arm linked with Arthur until they reached the door before he let go, quietly apologizing. “Sorry.” Then added in his normal voice. “Thank you for sharing this place, and Lady Violet with me. Where shall we go next?”

Arthur tipped his head to where Merlin’s arm had disappeared from his own. “Merlin, would you like to do things like that? Hold my arm, I mean.”

Merlin paused and briefly chewed his lower lip. “Yes, husband. It is natural for me to do these things. But not without your permission. It is not a part of your duties.” He said, wanting to make it clear that Arthur was in no way obligated, since they performed their royal roles in other ways. This was not one of them. This was a personal preference.

“Natural for you to reach out to anyone who might be at your side? Or natural for you to reach out to _me_?” Arthur asked, clearly putting importance on this distinction. He still felt like his new husband was invested in their relationship beyond the purely practical, in a way he wanted to understand.  
  
Merlin blinked a few times, forgetting that it was not obvious to anyone but him. “You, husband. Only you.” He gave a weak smile before stepping out of the shop and back into the streets to continue their walk of the lower town.

Arthur followed him out and with a brief hesitation, placed a hand on Merlin’s left shoulder. “It is something that gives you some pleasure?” he asked, still uncertain.

“I do it, because I am happy … and I want to share that happiness through touch. And being that close, yes, does give me pleasure.” Merlin said, glancing to the hand on his shoulder, then to Arthur’s blue eyes. “But I understand if that form of affection is undesired. I should remember to leave you be … but sometimes, I forget. Sometimes I still reach for you, husband, because I want to be close to you.”

“You are happy with me and want to be closer,” Arthur said, condensing the words down to what he understood to be their core. “This is what you are saying.” He studied Merlin’s face closely and dipped his head, eyes to the ground for a moment. “Our marriage means more than just a political union to you.” He lifted his hand off Merlin’s shoulder and placed it lower on his arm. “I do not begrudge you these brief touches and happinesses, Merlin. If you find yourself reaching for my arm, well, I do not mind.”

“Thank you, husband.” Merlin said and smiled kindly, grateful. “I do not expect you to find the same meaning in our relationship. But you are correct in your observation, our marriage means more then a political union to me.”

“You continue to be a puzzle to me, Merlin, but one I would like to know better,” Arthur said and squeezed his arm. “Come, let’s wander a little outside of the town. There are some fields just outside where we grow the herbs for the cook’s kitchen.” He lightly gripped Merlin’s right arm and steered him gently, a suggestion, not an order.

“That sounds lovely, Arthur.” Merlin said, easily accepting the guiding hand on his arm. He did not feel forced, though also believed that it would be good for Arthur to have some slight form of control. Just like being reinstated among the Knights, being allowed to take lead was good for Arthur, and was another step forward for them towards a future where they might be co-Kings of Camelot.

Arthur stopped at the edge of the wall and looked out at the garden, gently releasing Merlin’s arm and stepping away from him. “Here is where the cook keeps her garden, tended specially and guarded to keep out animals. There is a rotating schedule for providing herbs to the villagers, while also serving all of the parties in the castle. And a few of Gaius’ herbs are kept here, too.” 

Placing his hands on the stone barrier, Merlin leaned forward to catch sight of the herbs that were hugging the wall, then out in the rest of the garden. “This is a very nice selection. Far more than what one finds in the wild.” Merlin smiled back at Arthur, as this was the sort of thing he appreciated, and Arthur had been thoughtful enough to think of it. 

“You are familiar with plants and their uses?” Arthur asked, meandering into the gardens and being careful where he stepped. “I confess I only know a few of them ... mostly ones I like to eat.” He snuck a brief smile toward Merlin, somewhat sheepish.

“Yes, most of them.” Merlin answered as he followed Arthur into the garden. Crouching down, Merlin pressed the leaves of a planet between his fingers and broke it off, brushing out the oils against the pads of his fingers before lifting it close to his nose to smell. “Good for cooking, healing, perfumes, teas ... spells.” He added softly, unsure if Arthur wanted to hear that or not.

“Spells,” Arthur said. “I guess we’ll need to expand the gardens to include the plants that are used for those …” He looked around at the patch of land. “Will you take a lead on something like that? I’m not sure there’s anyone left in Camelot who know anything.”

“Yes, Arthur. That is easy enough.” Most of what grows here already could be used in most spells, only a few seasonal flowers or specialized items would be useful if brought in. Merlin continued to walk through the herb garden and stopped a few more times to check on the health of the plants. 

“Can you speak to nature? I mean ... sense it somehow ... talk to the plants and animals? I know Dragonlords may speak in the language of dragons, but what of other living things?” Arthur asked, watching as Merlin seemed to whisper love to the sadder looking plants in the field.

Merlin lifted his head and smiled fondly at Arthur. “Not speak, in the same way that you and I are communicating now. Or even the same way that I can speak to dragons in their own language ... but I can sense health or sickness in nature, in plants, in animals, in water ... and in some cases, help them grow, or become healthy again.” He said, helping a small patch grow fresh shoots, to replace the dead ones that had dried out; something that would usually take weeks of care and attention, happened in a matter of seconds. 

“Can you do the same with humans?” Arthur asked. “Could you feel that I have not been happy, Merlin? Is that something I subject you to?”

Merlin stood slowly, keeping his eyes on Arthur. “Yes, husband. I know you have been unhappy. Though I also know it helped to have the ceremony that reinstated you as a Knight. Not that it fixes everything ...” Merlin paused, before returning to the core of Arthur’s question. “Sometimes I can tell if- for example, a child is in distress, but is too afraid to show it. Their heart is screaming in pain, even if they are standing perfectly still and perfectly quiet. Then with that knowledge, it is my duty to save them.”

Arthur approached Merlin slowly, eyes intent on him. “There is a difference to knowing a person is unhappy and feeling it, as you have described. Do you feel what I do, Merlin? You used your magic to bind us, but to me, you are as blank a wall as every other human. But am I not the same to you?” He came to a halt directly in front of him. “Please, no lies of half-truths or dissembling.”

“As I told you last night. I will not pry into your mind, without your permission. But there are times, husband, when your thoughts are too loud, when your heart aches and cries out ... I cannot pretend to ignore it. I can feel it.” Merlin confirmed.

Wincing, Arthur took a step back and blew out a harsh breath through his nose. “I did not know I made you suffer. It is unfair that you should. My feelings are not your fault. I know that ... intellectually. My heart still struggles with it. You have helped me in the past few days, helping me know I will still be a part of Camelot ... letting me know you care about me. I may not understand why, but I believe you, Merlin. But worst ... worst is how much I am still angry at my father. For all the lies he told me ... for all the lies he told everyone about magic and magic users. For all the harm he has done ... That is what hurts the most. I loved him. Respected him. Wanted nothing more than his acknowledgement ... and it was all based on a lie. A terrible, inhuman lie that has made a murderer of me. For now, I know that is what I am, every inch as much as him.”

“I imagine you had a complicated relationship with your father, even before he went to war with the Dragonlords, and long before the terms of surrender and our arranged marriage.” Merlin said. “And I suspect your heart will often be torn between loving your father and being angry with him. It is a wound I have no power in healing. But I will stand with you, husband, as you find the path that is right for you.”

“It has never been easy,” Arthur agreed, “but there is nothing like discovering you have wasted your life, worse, that you have condemned yourself and others wrongly and fruitlessly. And now, that you make another person, someone innocent of all of it, share in your pain and guilt.” He shook his head in anger. “I know life not to be fair, but must it be cursed?”

“You feel cursed?” Merlin asked gently, stepping closer. “You’re not. I can tell you that, with absolute certainty. But ... that is how you feel?”

“I did not mean it literally,” Arthur said, “though I would not blame the Old Religion or Nature or whatever guiding force rules magic for cursing me literally. I am not meant to exist. And the price for my existence far outweighs anything I can hope to bring to this world. Everything I have done is tainted. All of it. By what right do I reap anything but ill?”

No. No, Merlin was not going to allow for that kind of thinking. “Arthur.” He said calmly and offered his hand. “Will you take me to the vaults under the castle? There is an item from the Old Religion I wish to return to the Druids. But first, I want to show it to you. Please. Let us go there, now. It has something I want you to see.”

Thrown off by the change in subject, Arthur reined in his emotions, ashamed already for having shown them, and nodded. He took the offered hand in his own, noting the length of Merlin’s fingers. “As you wish, my Lord. I will need to retrieve the key from my father. If you would prefer to wait in the main hall while I do so …”

“Arthur. I am not disregarding your words. But I do not share your belief in them. You are not cursed. You are not a plight on your fellow man. You are meant to exist. And I will show you why.” Merlin said, perhaps a bit too late in explaining himself. It felt like Arthur was closing himself off from Merlin again, with his dutiful phrase. 

“Show me why?” Arthur asked, confused anew. “Well, if you say. I still need to speak to my father about the key. He has always guarded it fiercely ... unless of course you have already taken it from him?” That was a possibility he should have considered immediately.

“No, Arthur. I do not have the key.” Merlin could get in without it, but that was not the point. They would go through the motions. Keeping hold of Arthur’s hand, Merlin led them back towards the castle, taking a few back roads the knights were meant to use in an emergency, through the lower town.

Arthur followed Merlin this time, giving in to the true strength of the other man. For all of Merlin’s tall, willowy appearance, his limbs had strength, too, beyond his magic. Not quite the burl of Arthur’s but nothing to mock, either. “You were born to lead ever as much as I.”

Merlin glanced up at the blue sky, reflecting on Arthur’s observation. “Yes-“ He said hesitantly. “I suppose I was.” Though from Merlin’s perspective, he was born to lead Arthur, and Arthur was born to lead Camelot. However, that is a truth, or near-truth that might never come to light due to the nature of their relationship. 

“You sound uncertain. You seldom seem uncertain about things,” Arthur said. “And you do have strong leadership skills. Even when I had merely seen you from across a battlefield, I could see that. Your warriors respected you. Deferred to you and listened when you gave orders. I was impressed.”

“Really?” Merlin attempted a slight smile. “I did not realize, that I had managed to impress you, Arthur.” He glanced to Arthur a few times as they walked together, wanting to meet his gaze, and yet also wanting to get them back to the castle promptly. “Will you tell me, please, how you were trained to be a leader? A prince? And a king?”

“Lessons started when I was old enough to walk and had just learned to talk,” Arthur said. “My father made clear who were the nobility and who were not. Who you wanted to respect you and who did not matter. I also got my first sword and mount as soon as I could carry and ride them without too much fear of mortal injury. I was taught the code of a knight. And how to carry myself as king ... my responsibilities.” He shook his head. “So many things. But most of all, I learned to hate and fear magic. That nobody with magic could be trusted and all must be killed.” He frowned at his feet, still holding Merlin’s hand.

Merlin listened to Arthur quickly explain his childhood, and felt very sorry for him, that he would have such a controlled life. “I hesitated to say that I was born to lead, because I was not trained in the same way. I have become, who and what I am, by a different route. At no point in my education, was there made an expectation that I would one day be king, or general of the armies, or anything ... other than a path of my own choosing.” 

“Even though you are the son of a king?” Arthur asked, truly surprised. “Is there not a passage of lineage amongst the Dragonlords?” There were so many things he did not understand about Merlin’s people. “How are leaders chosen, if not by bloodline?”

“The dragons.” Merlin said. “They choose their companions. And since Kilgharrah is the Great Dragon in this land, overseeing smaller or younger dragons in his territory, he is considered the head, the leader of the dragons, which makes my father, leader of the men.”

“But you mentioned dragons can go years without a match. What happens if Kilgharrah does not choose another companion when your father does pass?” Arthur asked. “Or is there another dragon in the succession?”

“Then in that case, it will follow the human bloodline. And I could be named King, or Regent, depending upon if my claim is well received. Which it would be.” Merlin added with another little smile. “Dragons do not ... depose of their leaders. If in another hundred years or so, one of the lesser dragons wants to strike out on his own, leave Kilgharrah’s territory, and become a leader of his own clan, he may do so.”

“I doubt your Great Dragon would choose someone other than you,” Arthur said. “They are magnificent creatures, now that I may openly admire them. I confess to being jealous. As much as I love my horses, a dragon is a much more ... impressive ride.”

“They are amazing.” Merlin said, easily in awe with dragons today, as he was as an infant, seeing them for the first time. “And there is nothing like seeing the world through the eyes of a dragon, high in the air, over trees and castles, lost in the clouds. But ... they are also not pets, like a horse. They have their own mind, and their own voice.”

Arthur snorted and said, “Horses have their own minds, too. They may be tiny, but they are their own. But yes, I suppose I think of them as pets. Maybe not my girl, though. She is a proud warhorse.” He had a fond smile on his face.

“You will have to introduce me.” Merlin said, sharing Arthur’s smile, able to feel how much his horse pleased him. “And ... if you are interested. I could introduce you to a dragon.” He suggested, then bit his lip, still not sure how Arthur would feel about such a thing. 

Arthur halted without thought and gaped at Merlin. “You think- I mean- you would? A dragon would not be offended to meet me?” He closed his mouth with an audible snap and composed himself. “I would be honored, Merlin, if you think a dragon would want to be in my presence.”

Merlin only smiled brighter. Placing his hands on Arthur’s hips, Merlin centered himself to Arthur, looking back at him with bright blue eyes. “Certainly, husband. I would be very pleased to make introductions.”

This was the closest Merlin had ever dared to be to him since their wedding, and Arthur stared at him with huge eyes. “Merlin?” he asked, but then shook his head, remembering what he’d said about letting his husband reach out to him. “Introductions? More than one dragon?” His voice raised hopefully at the end. 

“Yes, perhaps. We will see how the first one goes.” Merlin said, still smiling at Arthur, though dropped his hands away. Merlin had shared in Arthur’s excitement, perhaps too much. “But first, the vault please.”

“Yes. Right. The vault.” Arthur paused and offered an arm to Merlin. “If you would, I’ll lead you on, Merlin.”

“Thank you, husband.” Merlin said, back straightening and head lifting proudly as he took Arthur’s arm. It was such a small thing, but it made Merlin’s heart happy.

And Arthur, blind as he often was to such things, did notice this time. The way Merlin perked up at this very slight offer of companionship. So, he led him as he would a royal consort or a spouse. “Merlin, I know you professed to having no interest in a lover at this time, but may I ask ... have you had a lover before?”

Merlin turned his head to the side, trying to determine if this question was about whether or not Merlin was experienced or not. “Yes, husband. I have. Not recently. But I have.” Merlin admitted, though did not ask Arthur to answer the same.

“May I ask ... were public displays of affection part of those relationships?” Arthur hoped he did not offend Merlin with these questions, but wanted to learn more about the other man. He was not used to such open affections, except among the closest of married couples or youngest of lovers. The way Merlin reached to him seemed second nature, an act not at all uncertain.

“I do not mind your questions. I will always answer, where I can.” Merlin assured as they walked together, arms still linked. “Physical affection and public displays are not at all uncommon for Dragonlords. There are no taboos surrounding the gender or number of partners a person decides to have. As long as all involved consent. Why do you ask?”

“I suppose it is also part of my upbringing as prince and citizen of Camelot” Arthur mused. “While it is true that as a married couple, linked arms and other small signs of closeness are not uncommon, they are not as free as you practice, either. And as the Prince, I was taught not to be too intimate with anyone, especially in public, lest they believed themselves entitled to special favors. Worse, lest others believe it. So many a delicate matter of diplomacy might be ruined by Prince Pendragon kissing the wrong person where another might see. Or even offering an arm.”

“Do you still worry about these things, even though we are married?” Merlin asked. Meanwhile, he recognized in himself that he should show similar care with others. Not that Merlin went around kissing or holding hands with everyone, but he would be more conscious now, that a simple touch was not so simple here.

“Worry ... no. But I do not find it so simple to reach out as you do,” Arthur said. “We are married, Merlin, but we are still not a couple. As I learn more about you, I find that I like you. I hope we may be friends. But we are still married in name only. I can give you no heir, so there is no need to force intimate physical acts between us. I confess I would still find them upsetting ... distasteful even. But not so much as I would have on our wedding night. I do not mind holding your arm or your hand, as we are now.”

Merlin swallowed, the words burning into his ears. It was very hard not to be swallowed up by the sudden ache in his heart. But he forced himself to focus on the good of what Arthur had said. Arthur liked him and wanted to be friends. That was good. And holding hand or linking arms was acceptable. That was good, too.

“I hope to be friends as well.” Merlin said softly.

“You are a good man,” Arthur said. “I see that now. I see so many things now. I believe you when you tell me that we can do great things for Camelot together. And I want to be a partner that you trust and find worthy. But all of this is hard for me, Merlin. So very hard. I find that after 22 years, the man I am must be completely remolded, down to his core beliefs. That is no little thing for me. It pains me, as you have felt.”

“I agree husband, it is no little thing.” Merlin said, assuring Arthur that he understood the inner conflict he was going through each day. “That is why I want to be a partner that you trust, as well. I am here to support you, Arthur, not make things more difficult. Even if that is how it feels.” 

Arthur studied him some more and said, “You make me feel as though you think it more important to help me than to be the King. I do not understand that ... perhaps that does make it more difficult for me. I feel like there must be something you are not telling me ... something about us.”

Glancing down, Merlin smiled a little to himself. “Yes, husband. Helping you adjust, to be a friend to magic, a friend to people like me, is the foundation we need, before either of us can be King. And-“ Merlin considered the other truth as well. “There are things that I still hold close, things that I have not yet told you. But the object in the vault will help explain better, then my words can.”

“Yes, yes, the vault,” Arthur said and picked back up his pace again, gently leading Merlin. “How do you know what you seek is in Camelot’s vault, Merlin?” he asked. “Do you know of all of what is stored there? I know I do not.”

“It is a magical object that I can sense. It has ... almost a voice, that is calling out to be return to where it is from.” Merlin answered, happily keeping pace with Arthur. “As for what else is kept in the vault, I cannot say. It is only the one object that calls to me.”

“I cannot fathom how that even works,” Arthur admitted. “Inanimate objects that speak. Well, now I must see this object. Where does it come from?” He nodded to two guards as they re-entered the upper town, where they headed for the castle again. “Would you like to wait for me in at the entrance to the vaults? I’ll go argue with my father.”

“It comes from a cave, that I spent a few nights in alone, every year.” Merlin said, knowing he would later give Arthur more details, but not when they were about to temporarily part ways. “I will wait for you, Arthur. But do not let this distress you.” After all, asking for a key was simply a formality, and not something Merlin actually needed. 

Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand and went to speak to his father, head up and shoulders back in readiness for the confrontation. His anger still sparked him, drove him even in such a simple matter. 

By the time he returned, some half-hour had passed, and his mood had fallen sharply. However, he held the key clasped in one hand, which he offered to Merlin. “This is yours, Merlin. You are now its sole possessor and can decide what to do with everything inside.” He had resolved that before he even faced his father and refused to even listen to any arguments to the contrary. 

Merlin reached out to take the key, but also cover Arthur’s hand with his own. “Thank you, husband.” He said, understanding that Arthur had stood up for him, against his father, and did not treat such a confrontation lightly. “Are you alright?” He asked, wanting to be certain and confident of Arthur’s state before moving forward.

“As well as can be hoped, I imagine,” Arthur said. “I wish I could say he has improved since his defeat. However, he is as ill-tempered and haughty as ever.” In fact, Uther kept trying to persuade Arthur to kill his new husband as soon as the rest of the Dragonlords were gone. But he did not want to divulge that to Merlin ... not yet, anyway. “I hope you can forgive him, though he does not deserve it.”

Merlin stood quietly for a moment, his hands still covering Arthur’s hand. He knew what he should say, but he also promised to tell Arthur the truth, and not have lies between them. “I admit husband, I am not perfect. I ... I can not, yet, find it within me to forgive your father. I have however, already forgiven you. Though I also know, you still hold yourself to a high standard, and are still coming to terms with blame your father, and yourself.”

“I could not ask you to forgive him for all he had done,” Arthur said with a scowl. “No person can be that perfect. No, I ask forgiveness for his continued recalcitrance. A defeated man who refuses to understand when he is beaten.” He lit a torch to carry into the vault with them, as they were well underground and untouched for the most part. “After you,” he said and indicated the steps down into the vaults.

Merlin nodded sympathetically. “Yes, husband. That I understand. I do not hold it against him.” Uther would simply remain miserable for the rest of his life, and there was no reason for Merlin to add to his misery.

“Thank you.” Merlin said and began to walk down the stone stairs, trusting Arthur to light their way. When they reached a large iron gate, which Merlin unlocked with the key.

“I have been here only once before,” Arthur said. “We were enclosing a magical artifact my father had seized from a sorcerer in one of the outlying villages of Camelot. He used the opportunity to teach me more about his hatred of magic and sorcerers. Still, I have not seen most of the vault or what is contained within.” He pushed the gate open and gestured for Merlin to step inside.

“I am happy to explore these items with you, Arthur. And tell you about the ones I know ... but today ... this is my focus.” Merlin walked through a narrow path within the vault, ignoring everything leading up to the object that was calling to him. A large crystal, about the side of Arthur’s forearm. Ghosting his fingertips over it, Merlin already began to see images, but then pulled his hand away, waiting for Arthur.

“This crystal is just a small piece from a large cave, husband. It has such amazing power, that I have carefully studied and learned to interpret year after year. It is going to show you images. Some might be familiar to you, and others will be new. This fractured piece of magic, has the power to show you small insights into the future, or possible future. I want you to see these images, husband, because I need you to understand, that you are important. Your life does have meaning. You are meant to exist, and you have a great deal to offer the world.” 

But Arthur froze and stared at the object with obvious fear. “Do you think a person should know the future, Merlin? It seems a lot to know such things.” He looked at the other man. “This is why you treat me as you do? These crystals have shown you my future? Our future?”

“They show only a possible future. And one, I hope to encourage.” Merlin said gently, understanding Arthur’s fear. “But your question is not unreasonable, husband. Many with magic have questioned the burden of such knowledge. And it has taken me years of training to understand the images I see in the crystals.” Merlin gently pressed a hand to Arthur’s shoulder, a show of support. “I merely want to assure you, Arthur Pendragon, you have a place in Camelot. A future, here.”

“A future with you?” Arthur asked and with a deep breath, reached for the crystal. His fingertips brushed lightly over the crystal, still nervous, but willing. “Do I need to close my eyes or concentrate or anything?” He had no idea how such things worked. He could only imagine what his father would say about such a thing.

“No concentration needed.” Merlin answered gently, touching his fingertips to one edge of the crystal. “Just look at the surface, and the images will reveal themselves.”

Arthur pressed his fingers more firmly against the crystal and gazed into the object, half-holding his breath at what he might see. At first, nothing, but then a dim image began to form, slowly growing clearer in the smooth surface. Arthur squinted to try and get a better look and eventually let out a gasp when he recognized himself, a bit older, but clearly him. He was in a field of battle, wearing the Camelot emblem and leading a group of men against a foe of black knights. And then a flash from behind him, and enemies went flying everywhere, as someone Arthur knew to be Merlin attacked with magic.

The image then shifted, to celebrations in the streets. In both the lower and upper town. Banners in the air and flowers at people’s feet. Happy faces and clear prosperity. And in the middle of it all, Merlin and Arthur standing before the crowd of people, holding hands together, up in the air for all to see.

Arthur’s mouth twitched upward at the sight, which changed again to a formal procession, everyone dressed in black and carrying a coffin toward a tomb marked Pendragon. Arthur saw himself, older yet again, eyes red and solemn, walking just behind the coffin bearers, with Merlin again at his side. But perversely, the sun shown and flowers bloomed on the path around them, as if nature celebrated this ending. And Arthur felt his cheer melt away, remorse for a life misspent in his stomach.

Merlin watched the images, just as much as he kept his eyes on Arthur, observing how he was handling this experience. “We can stop, if you want.” He offered, just as the image within the crystal changed again. Arthur held a shining sword, unlike anything he currently possessed and swung it against a large set of chains, each link the size of a horse. And with a single blow, the chain was broken, and a dragon took to the air, free.

Arthur drew his hand back with a gasp and looked at Merlin. “What- that last ... what was that?” he asked. “Did I just free a dragon?” He shook his head a few times, trying to feel a bit less disoriented. “That was very strange. Those are shadows of things that may be?”

“That’s right, Arthur. The images are merely things that may come to pass. They are glimpses of a possible future. Do not think of it as fact, or truth. Simply ... a possibility.” Merlin drew his hand away from the crystal, keeping his attention on Arthur.

“Why did you show me this?” Arthur asked, looking to his husband with curiosity. He was still trying to process what he had been shown, along with the knowledge that he had freely used magic. “And I just realized ... I have never freely chosen to use magic before. You have changed me a great deal …”  
  
“I showed you, because I wanted you to see that you have a future in Camelot. That you are not cursed. That things can change, if you want them to. And you can be a part of that change, with me.” Merlin brushed his fingertips over the top of Arthur’s hand, before letting his hand slip away.

“You wonder why I am, the way I am. Why I express hope. Why I have confidence in you, when you do not in yourself. It is because I want to encourage a future similar to this, husband. Do you ... understand?”

“More than I did,” Arthur said. “Is this the only thing you have seen to indicate all we might achieve ... or is there more, Merlin? Something else that has led you to believe in me, in us, as you do.” He put his right hand over Merlin’s left and squeezed once. “Please.”

“Far more than this, husband.” Merlin answered honestly, but smiled a little, clearly happy by not only the touch, but Arthur’s interest. “This crystal has shown images I’ve never seen before, or at least not in that order. I have spent time in a cave, full of these crystals, and seen thousands, hundreds of thousands of such images. Some good, some not. But there is more to my faith in you, in us, then these speculative futures that the crystal can provide.” Merlin just stared at Arthur for a moment. “Can I first ask, why you want to know?”

“You wish to be my husband in more than name,” Arthur said. “If such a thing is ever to be, I must understand and trust not only you, but your magic. It seems unbelievable to me that your feelings and faith can be real, when they seem based on so little. But I do not think it is so little as it seems. If it is a secret, I will not ask again.” He thumbed over the back of Merlin’s hand, deliberately using a bit of tactileness to entreat him.

“It is not a secret.” Merlin admitted, looking down at Arthur’s hand, being slow and deliberate in making these decisions. “Do you have time to walk with me, husband? I have shown you one source of magic and knowledge, but I would like to show you another.”

“May we return here another time than?” Arthur asked, looking around the rest of the vault. “I should like to know more about what my father put here and begin to discuss what we should do with it all. Some of it should be returned …”

“Yes, husband. I would like that very much. I am certain this room has a great many secrets for us to uncover. But today is not the day for it.” Merlin glanced at the crystal before he reached over and wrapped it in a piece of cloth, and set it aside so that it would not be disturbed until Merlin came back for it later.

“Yes, later,” Arthur agreed. “I would like to speak with you now, Merlin. Shall we adjourn to your chambers? I can request some drinks and a small meal to tide us to dinner. I am glad we do not have a feast planned tonight. We may speak of whatever you wish, and I hope that will include my question.”  
  
Merlin smiled to himself and shook his head. “You are tempting me with exactly what I want, husband. Some time to spend alone with you, to talk openly and share a private meal without the eyes of others upon us. But in order to answer your question, we must go for a short walk.”

Intrigued, Arthur nodded his ascent and said, ”I shall follow you.” He offered his arm to show his willingness to go where Merlin would lead.

Hooking their arms together, Merlin happily led them back up the stairs and through several halls within the castle. Though it shortly became clear they were heading out one of the back doors, rather than the front gates.

It was here, that there was a small field with a few old growth trees that shaded the shoreline of a freshwater stream. Following this water source upriver for a few minutes, Merlin led Arthur to a secluded spot where sunlight poured down, shining on a very large dragon, that seemed to be basking in the warmth.

Arthur came to a halt again, nearly pulling Merlin over with the abruptness of it. “The Great Dragon,” he whispered and swallowed hard. “Is it safe for me to approach? Should I get down and beg forgiveness? I will. I do owe him more than an apology. I nearly had a hand in killing him.” He looked to Merlin with wide, worried eyes.

Merlin unlocked their arms in favor of holding Arthur’s hand firmly, in show of support. “Let us see, husband.” He said gently, then turned his eyes upon his old friend and called out to him. “Kilgharrah.” He began, the rumble of his name spoken with perfect clarity, before he continued in the dragon tongue. “ _Arthur is with me. He would like to meet you. If that is acceptable_.” The words were not a demand, so even as kin, Kilgharrah had no obligation to obey Merlin’s request. Merlin was speaking to Kilgharrah as family, as he always did.

Kilgharrah lifted his head from where he was peacefully resting and blinked in Merlin’s direction. “Ah, young warlock, who else would disturb my rest?” He rose with grace despite his large size and gazed over at the two men. “You have brought me company ... or is this perhaps, dinner?”

Arthur gulped.

As Kilgharrah moved in the sunlight, several of his large scales shined a bright red, as if they were made of rubies and garnets, while others were a bit duller, showing his age. Not that it made him any less magnificent.

Merlin continued to hold Arthur’s hand, while he spoke in the dragon tongue. “ _Brother_.” Merlin said, speaking with Kilgharrah as kin. “ _He is willing to apologize. To humble himself before you, if you wish. He simply wants to meet you. And understand us, better._ “

“So, little prince, you are willing to profess guilt in attacking me and plead for forgiveness,” Kilgharrah said and turned his massive head toward Arthur. He lowered it to peer at Arthur with narrowed eyes. “I am waiting.”

Arthur released Merlin’s hand and stepped forward, before going down on one knee. “We were wrong to attack you, Great Dragon. And I beg forgiveness for my part in the attack on you. I swear never to attack a dragon without provocation and to learn more about magic and understand it.” He bowed his head and tried not to feel too exposed.

Remaining in place, Merlin watched Arthur as he made good on his promise, admitting to his wrongs. “I have shown Arthur the Crystal of Neahtid, that lies within the vaults of Camelot. Within it, he has seen several possible futures ... including magic woven into our lives. _He is opening his heart to magic, brother. Will you show my husband mercy_?” Merlin said the last in the dragon tongue.

“ _And is he opening his heart to you, young warlock, as well? Or do you merely still hope that he shall also make that leap?”_ Kilgharrah was content to allow Arthur to suffer a few moments more. After all, he had attempted to kill him. And he might forgive, but not too quickly.

“ _Slowly, Kilgharrah_.” Merlin admitted. _“He has felt my magic, and is curious to know more. He wants to know why I have faith in him. Why I am committed to our marriage as I am, rather than treating it as merely duty and diplomacy_.” 

“ _And you wish me to forgive him and help him further along his way to you,”_ Kilgharrah said without real question. “ _You have always been good of heart. Too good, perhaps.”_ He huffed a snort that blew warm air over the back of Arthur’s neck. “Pendragon!” he growled.

Merlin stepped closer, fingers twisting together, uncertain. “ _Kilgharrah. Brother. I would never ask you to forgive if it is not in your heart to do so. It is not in Balinor’s, therefore I do not expect it from you, either._ “ Merlin looked down at Arthur, still kneeling. “ _He merely wanted to meet you. You are an important part of my life Kilgharrah. You raised me as much as my own father. I wanted to share that with him_.”

Arthur kept his eyes closed and his head bowed, but refused to tremble, even though the dragon’s nearness made his insides watery. He wondered what the dragon and Merlin said to each other, though he knew it was not his business. “I will do what I can to make up for my transgressions,” he said.

“Oh?” Kilgharrah asked. “Indeed?” He looked at Merlin and back at Arthur. “Will you be a faithful husband to Merlin and serve him all your life?”

Where Arthur might fear being lunch, so near to the dragon’s mouth, Merlin only found comfort in dragon’s breath. Placing a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, Merlin stood at his side. It was unfair to Arthur to be held to such a promise under duress, but he had made the offer open ended. Still, he knew that Kilgharrah was doing him a favor, and so bit his tongue.

Arthur breathed out and nodded once. “When my father is exiled, may I travel with him and stay until he is as settled, as long as I return?” He lifted his head to look at Kilgharrah and Merlin.

Merlin sighed softly. He knew that Arthur still loved his father, but could not help but feel, after everything they had talked about, and everything Merlin had tried to show him, Arthur still wanted to get away from him, and the life Merlin was offering. “Yes, husband.” Merlin said gently in answer, giving Arthur less strict conditions to his promise, then what Kilgharrah might demand.

“I will serve Merlin faithfully until the end of my days,” Arthur swore and met both Merlin’s and Kilgharrah’s eyes to show his sincerity. 

Kilgharrah nodded and said, “I will accept your apology, little prince, though I will keep my eyes on you.” He lightly bowed his head to Merlin. “ _Have faith, young warlock, for his heart is open and he is willing to learn.”_

Merlin looked down at Arthur and gave a small nod in acknowledgement of his words. He gave his shoulder a firm squeeze before turning his gaze back upon the Great Dragon. _“Thank you, Kilgharrah, for being willing to see him. I know that I pushed for this exchange, far too soon.”_

_“He is your husband ... and you care for him. Even if I could not feel it, brother, I would be able to see it in your eyes and in your behavior. Hear it in your voice.”_ Kilgharrah leaned in to lightly tap Merlin with his nose. “You wish to learn of dragons, do you, little Prince?”

Arthur lifted himself slowly to his feet and looked up at Kilgharrah. “I know now that much of what I was taught was lies. I have much to learn of magic and magical creatures, including dragons. If you are willing to teach me, I will be a ready pupil.”

“Hmm.” Smoke curled from Kilgharrah’s nostrils. “What do you say, Sire?” He turned to look at his friend and brother. “Shall I take pity on this ignorant pup?”

Merlin almost appeared to glow as he smiled at the dragon, showing great familiarity with him, pressing a hand to his face as Kilgharrah nudged him. And though a dragon was by no means a pet and should never be treated as one, Merlin stroked his hand over the very fine, almost soft scales a few inches below Kilgharrah’s eye. “Who better to learn from, my friend.”

“I will teach you, young Pendragon, all that I can. All that you will be willing to listen to,” Kilgharrah said. “And I entreat you to listen to the wisest amongst us about magic. Your future king.” He nodded to Merlin. “My brother.” He plonked Arthur with his snout in a less friendly way and knocked him flat.

Of course Merlin could not help but laugh softly. After all, Kilgharrah wasn’t truly taking out any aggression on Arthur, and yet was more than willing to show him his place. “Gently.” He said and reached a hand for Arthur, offering to help him back to his feet with a smile.

Arthur shot Merlin a bit of a glare, but knew he deserved the blow. Besides, nothing was hurt besides his already battered pride and that wasn’t worth much anyway. Waving away Merlin’s hand, he slowly climbed to his feet and took a cautious step away from Kilgharrah. “I will listen to him, as well. As my future king, as well as a teacher. I regret I have nothing equal to teach.”

In his own way, Merlin helped address why Arthur had found himself pushed over, so that he did not think of it as merely being humiliated. “You will find, husband, we are quite small compared to a dragon. Our bodies are small, and our lives are short. But the quality of our lives can be huge, influencing the future, long after we are bone and dust.” 

“Are you attempting to make me feel more insignificant, my Lord?” Arthur asked with a hint of amusement. “I promise you, it is unnecessary.” He glanced back at Kilgharrah. “I know when a blow is deserved. And mine was deserved. May I come here tomorrow for the midday meal for my first lesson, sir Dragon?”

Kilgharrah huffed a laugh and said, “I will teach you than, little Prince. And you may call me by my name.”

“An honor ... Kilgharrah.” Arthur looked over at Merlin. “Will you join us?”

“Yes, husband. I would like to join you.” Merlin said, wanting to stay close to Arthur and perhaps help him learn, while also getting to spend time with Kilgharrah, before he left with Balinor. “Shall we let you get back to basking in the sun?” Merlin asked, gazing into the Great Dragon’s eyes.

“Basking is what we overgrown lizards do best,” Kilgharrah joked and stretched his entire length, wings spread wide to the sun. “I might even have a peaceful sleep from here on.” He nodded his head to them both. “ _A pleasure, my brother. Now, go have fun with your little prince. I am aware how much you wish to.”_

Merlin pressed his face closer to the end of Kilgharrah’s snout, smiling privately, not needing to say anything more. Kilgharrah knew that he was grateful. And so after a moment, pulled himself away to return to Arthur’s side. “In time, you will come to understand his humor, as well.” Merlin said, encouraging Arthur to walk back with him. 

“Which part of that was humor?” Arthur asked with a glance over his shoulder at the dragon, which was stretching back out in the sun, limbs askew to catch all of the rays. “He seemed mostly displeased with me, as is understandable. But one could hear how much he cares for you.”

“Well-“ Merlin glanced to the side before answering. “For one, he’s not a lizard. And if anyone were to call him that, it would be a instant and direct way of becoming charcoal. Only he can make those jokes about himself, or Balinor, if he were purposefully goading him.” Merlin explained as they headed back down the path they had come. “Also, he was never going to eat you. Kilgharrah knows how important you are, to me, and to the future of Camelot.”

“Eat me …” Arthur turned a little green. “It never occurred to me that he might eat me. Charcoal, yes. Mealtime, no.” He looked back at the dragon again, awe in his expression. “Am I? Important to all of those things? Can you really not make Camelot great without me?”

“Yes, husband. You are important.” Merlin said simply. “And I know I promised you a better answer, but it will have to wait until Kilgharrah warms to you better.” Merlin said, with some apology, since that was why they had walked out here to begin with.

“Well, my life has never been full of easy answers, so why should this be any different?” Arthur asked with a hint of amusement. “I am surprised he was as calm toward me as he was, even if he did knock me on my royal backside.” He offered Merlin his arm. “Shall we now have that meal I suggested previously?”

“No broken bones, though. So that’s promising.” Merlin attempted to offer similar humor to the situation. Hooking his arm with Arthur, the young sorcerer fell into pace with his counterpart. “Yes, husband. I would like that. Just the two of us.”

“Perhaps you can continue my interrogation,” Arthur said without heat. “And you can show me more of what your magic can do.” He ducked his head a little. “If you want, of course, my Lord. I do not mean to speak of your magic like it was a parlor trick or something for my own amusement.”

“I am happy to share my magic with you, husband.” Merlin assured. “I did not interpret your request as a demand for entertainment.” They walked on, back towards the castle for a while before Merlin spoke again, gently. “You can call me, Merlin, you know.”

“I do,” Arthur said, “when the time seems right. At other times, your title seems more correct. You are, after all, my Lord, as well as the future ruler of everyone in Camelot ... and of the Dragonlords, too. However, as you request, I shall try to call you Merlin more often.”

“When you are ready.” Merlin said with a small nod.


	7. Chapter 7

Some two days after Balinor and the majority of the Dragonlords had left Camelot, Uther had called Arthur to him for a private conversation. He had deliberately timed it for when Merlin was busy elsewhere, seeing to the semi-permanent lodgings for those dragons and lords remaining behind with him. And so Arthur had gone, however reluctantly, to see what his father wanted.

Their conversation devolved quickly into an argument about the future and magic and most of all, Merlin. And in his anger and desire to prove that Merlin was a good man, he let slip that the sorcerer had not forced the consummation of their marriage. He knew his mistake the second he saw his father’s eyes light up. 

“So, you marriage may be annulled immediately!” Uther declared. “As soon as you state that he is not man enough to consummate it.” He clapped his hands in glee, obviously delighted by the prospect of getting to have this news publicly proclaimed. 

Arthur reacted with fury and stated he’d allow Merlin to consummate their marriage in front of the whole court before he humiliated Merlin in such a way.

The rest of their meeting was not worth much, as they both lost their voices screaming at each other. Arthur finally slammed out of the room and toward the Royal bedroom. He banged on the door and said, “Merlin, are you there?” in what remained of his voice.

The door opened to Arthur almost instantly. The bedroom was full of light, as all the windows were open and the curtains tied off to the side, allowing fresh air and bright sunlight into the room. “Arthur?” Merlin had been in the middle of taking his boots off, from being outside, but stood instantly to see the distress on Arthur’s face. “Husband?”

Arthur strode into the room and paced a little, before whirling around on Merlin. “My father wants to annul our marriage. I’m sorry, Merlin, I was just trying to persuade him that you are a good man, but I revealed that we did not consummate our joining.” He blew out a harsh breath. “I told him I’d let you fuck me in front of the whole court before I let him tell anyone that.” He scrubbed his face with both hands, obviously distraught.

Though he was already a fair skinned young man, Merlin paled considerably as he stared at Arthur, unable to find any words to respond to his news. It felt like his heart was pounding in his ears and he couldn’t hear anything else, until he forced himself to step closer to Arthur. His fingers curled, hands clenching into fists, relaxing after a breath, then clenching again. “We will not being doing that, Arthur.”

Arthur raised his head and offered a weak smile to Merlin, before saying, “I know you would not do that to me, Merlin, but nor will I allow my father to humiliate you or belittle our union. Whatever we may be to each other personally, you are important to this country.” He reached out for Merlin’s hands, both of his outstretched beseechingly, palms up. “Let’s head out on our trip around Camelot as soon as possible. We can get away from my father for awhile, before either of us do or say something that can never be undone. It will also help solidify your place in Camelot.”

“Arthur.” Merlin accepted the gesture, placing his hands over top Arthur’s strong hands and gave a slow squeeze. Uther was troubling. More then troubling. But as horrible as Uther was being, Merlin recognized that Arthur had stood up for him. Defended him. Showed loyalty to their partnership.

“Yes, Arthur.” Merlin finally said, giving a clear answer. “That is a sensible decision.” 

“And we need to discuss what to do about Uther. It is obvious that he will act as your enemy directly, if given a chance. We cannot allow this,” Arthur said. “If for no other reason than we gave you our word and to go back on it is the height of dishonor.” He wrapped his own fingers around Merlin’s and gripped fiercely, but not in a painful manner. “Perhaps we can send him into exile earlier than planned. I would go with him to make sure he settled ... and stayed. You will be here ruling wisely and helping everyone forget my father.”

Merlin listened quietly, surprised, and yet not, to hear Arthur speak this way about his own father. “I would hate to lose you so soon.” Merlin admitted. “Or break our promise, by pushing him into exile sooner then the treaty states. But clearly, these things must be seriously considered, and discussed.” Merlin glanced down at their hands before meeting his eyes again. “Thank you, Arthur, for remaining honest and truthful with me, telling me that this has happened.” 

Arthur shook his head in anger. “There is nothing to thank me for. I believe in honor, that is the knight’s code. You deserve that. And ... I have gotten to like what I know of you. I believe that magic needs to be returned to Camelot. And you are the right person to do that.” He lifted their joined right hands and kissed Merlin’s knuckles in the traditional symbol of fealty. “You will be my king. Uther is no longer ... but he is my father, and I want to be there to help him in exile. But for now ... may I arrange for your tour of Camelot’s towns, village, farms and wildlands to begin in a few days?”

At the kiss, some color returned to Merlin’s pale face, and he breathed out a slow sigh, his own nerves calming, despite the trouble with Uther. For the first time, Merlin heard Arthur pledged himself, in something other then mindless duty. This was no longer forced loyalty. This was genuine. “Please, husband. The trip will be good for us, and out people.” Merlin agreed. 

“I will make the arrangements, my Lord. Immediately. I would like to bring some of your dragon lords with us and leave behind the knights, as they will watch Uther for us. I do not trust any who have been his men in the past not to remain solely loyal to him.” Arthur released Merlin’s hands and turned away. “I must also build back up the knights more quickly. I will have Leon send a notice that we are looking for new recruits.”

“I trust your judgment, Arthur.” Merlin assured, wanting to say this aloud so that there was no doubt. Though as Arthur turned to go, Merlin briefly chewed on his lip before adding. “May I embrace you, Arthur? Before you go?”

Arthur raised both eyebrows at Merlin, some bemusement appearing on his face, but nodded once. “Of course, if that is in some way beneficial to you, Merlin.” He opened his arms in invitation, though he suspected he looked rather foolish doing so.

It did not take much for Merlin to close the distance between them. And Merlin all but fell into Arthur’s arms, wrapping his own long arms around Arthur as they hugged. Merlin did not explain himself, but he was grateful for Arthur’s loyalty and the slowly evolving change of heart Arthur has had about magic and Merlin as king.

Cupping a hand to the back of Arthur’s neck, Merlin held tight to his husband one last moment before forcing himself to let go. Offering solemn words. “Do not allow Uther to hurt you, husband. I will not stand for it.”

“He is my father, Merlin,” Arthur said, “and the hurt was there before you came. I have never been good enough, never strong enough or smart enough or stern enough. I was always a failure in his eyes, and you have only made that worse. Not that you are at fault.” He had returned the embrace, though a little more formally that Merlin gave it. 

“Then I mourn the fact that Uther does not know you at all, husband.” Merlin said simply and firmly. “You are none of those things, Arthur. Not. One.”

“You seem sure of that, especially since you do not know me that way,” Arthur said, but felt warmed by Merlin’s regard. “But you have my deepest thanks, my Lord, for that belief.” He bowed in a way that was respectful and friendly in one graceful move. “What are your plans for the remainder of this day?”

Merlin gave a slight shake of his head, either disagreeing that he did know Arthur well enough to make such a judgment, or because whatever it was he had planned, no longer mattered. “I will begin to pack for our trip, and leave you to the other arrangements.”

“Please keep a wary eye out, Merlin,” Arthur said. “I do not trust my father or what he might do. I will send one of my knights to assist you. And to be ready to defend you should my father decide to do something treacherous. I know you can watch after yourself, but I will feel better if Leon is with you. Do you mind, my Lord?”

“Thank you, Arthur.” Merlin understood that Arthur was sincere in his worry and should therefore not dismiss it, nor decline the offered help. “I welcome the company, and the security.” It meant that if it came to sit, Sir Leon would be forced to choose a side, once and for all. But Merlin trusted Arthur’s judgment, and trusted that the knights were loyal to Arthur and whatever he asked of them.

“Have you had the opportunity to speak with Sir Leon before, my Lord?” Arthur asked, thinking of his oldest knight with a fond smile. He had been knighted when Arthur was young, but he was one of Arthur’s closest friends. “I trust him with more than my life.”

“He has issued polite greetings in passing, but no, we have not had the opportunity to speak for any length of time.” Merlin admitted. “But I look forward to getting to know him better.”

“He is a quiet man by nature,” Arthur said. “If you wish to make him more talkative, bring up the jousting tournaments to herald the return of spring. He can rhapsodize endlessly about those, but then he will be willing to talk about other things, as well. He knows I trust you and that I have learned to have faith in your belief in the future.”

“Ah-“ Merlin smiled a little. “Thank you for that insight, it will help us get to know each other better, until we find common ground.” In fact, Merlin was looking forward to getting to know Arthur’s friends better, so perhaps this would be a good opportunity. 

“I will send him directly and work with the stewards to have everything prepared for our leavetaking. I will arrange to speak with my father just before we go. Would you like to attend him with me?” Arthur thought that a united front would be smart to show his father at this juncture.

“Thank you, Arthur, for taking charge of this.” Merlin said, showing that he not only supported Arthur’s decisions, but was willing for him to take these leadership roles as well. “And when you are ready, we will go to see him, together.”

“Tonight will be a good one for discretion. Perhaps you can excuse yourself from dinner with my father and myself? I will see to it that no mention of our trip reaches him ... before late tonight, anyway. A complete secret is difficult to keep on matters like this,” Arthur said ruefully. “And many of the servants are devoted to him.”

“I understand, Arthur.” Merlin said with a small nod. Though it worried him to hear that there were still those who are loyal to Uther within the castle. “I know that Gwaine is not yet a knight, and that he can talk enough to blow wind into a ship’s sails, but he will keep this secret, and do anything difficult, or questionable, that you might ask of him.” Merlin said, wanting to offer a friend to Arthur in turn, since Leon had been offered to him.

“He should be with Leon in training,” Arthur said. “I will ask for his assistance with our preparations, as well as his secrecy. Shall he accompany us or remain her to support Leon in watching my father? I know you trust him above others and he can get into places where others are more noticeable.”

“I believe he will be of greater use if he remains to support Leon.” Merlin answered. “Until then, if you need him, all you have to do is ask.” The joy that he had been feeling today was drained from Merlin as he spoke, and turned to close the windows in the room, and partly draw the curtains so that there was some privacy, not that anyone could see into the royal bedchamber. Still. Best to be careful.

Arthur gave another little bow and said, “I will make sure it is done, my Lord. I will look to attend to you after dinner with my father, though I suspect it will take well into the night to finish our preparations. I will look to get an audience with my father first thing in the morning, so there may be no complications to our leavetaking.”

Merlin nodded solemnly, his mind already drifting down several paths, trying to find one that would lead them to a safe future. “Very good, Arthur. I will stand with you, when the time comes. Until then, I will prepare for our journey.”

“Take care, Merlin. My father is a wily man ... and he is never more dangerous than now.” Arthur smiled at his husband. “I would hate to have anything happen to you.” He bowed again and backed out the door, before turning on his heel and marching to find his knights. 

  
  
* * *

Uther Pendragon awaited the audience with his son and his son’s bastard husband with impatience, mind whirling with ideas as to why they wanted to speak to him first thing in the morning. A private audience yet. His scowl could curdle milk, especially when the pair were a few minutes late. By the time they entered the throne room, steam practically rose from his head. “How dare you keep me waiting,” he snapped as soon as they had made their bows. “For what reason have you called me to this audience?”

“Apologies, Sire,” Arthur said with another bow to his father. “We had last preparations to make, which took longer than anticipated.”

“Preparations for what?” Uther demanded and stood, glaring now at Merlin. “What have you persuaded my son to do?”

The empty throne room amplified each of Uther’s angry words, but Merlin ignored it, having no reason to submit to what little power Uther had left. “We will be traveling shortly, visiting outlying villages, the land and people that this kingdom protects and serves.” Merlin answered calmly.

“We leave this morning, Sire,” Arthur said with a nod to Merlin. “We believe it is past time for Lord Emrys to meet more of his people and see the countryside and smaller towns and villages.”

Uther bit down his angry response at the idea of Lord Emrys’ ‘people’ and said cooly, “And you felt no responsibility to tell me until now.” He waved away any response and looked to Merlin. “I know how little you think of me. And you know how little I think of you. But even for a Dragonlord, that you should twist my son against me is despicable.”  
  
”Father-” Arthur protested, but Uther jerked his hand at him again to bring his words to a halt.

“I shall not wish you fair or safe journey. If the Fates are kind, it shall be neither. You have my permission to leave.”

Merlin’s dismissive attitude towards Uther shifted, simple, direct, and cold. “We were not asking for your permission. Nor is it required. This was simply a courtesy.” _From a loving son, you are unworthy of_. 

Uther looked at him with a sneer. “So you say, but there is no courtesy in you, boy. I know you would strike me down if you did not wish to make a catamite of my son.”

“Enough,” Arthur said angrily and strode forward. “We will take no more of your insults. We are leaving now. You may give or withhold permission as you please, but we are going.” He took Merlin’s right hand and tugged gently. “Come, Merlin. Please.”

Merlin was grateful for Arthur and gave their joined hands a squeeze. He could see now with clarity how Uther had bullied his own son, bullied his own kingdom with such arrogance. “I have no need to strike you down, Uther Pendragon. Camelot is _ours_.” Merlin said, including Arthur in this statement. “And if you should make any attempt for power in our absence, it will be treated as treason.”

Uther’s mouth quirked into a smirk at the two men. “No, Lord Emrys, Camelot is not yours. Your marriage being invalid to this time means that you are not yet the heir to the throne. I would be well in my rights to invalidate your marriage and send you and your Dragonlords back from whence you came. Yes, you could protest or even take Camelot back by force. But then you will have proved the evil of magic.” He smiled nastily at them both.

“I promised you, father, that I would not allow such a thing,” Arthur snarled.

“Yes, so you say ... but keep your ‘husband’ in line. He cannot even pretend to civility with me,” Uther said.

“Ah, I see. You wish to annul our marriage?” Merlin knew he did before stepping into the throne room this morning, but had needed to hear Uther say it aloud. “Destroy any chance for peace? That is what you value? Over the lives of the people?” Merlin expressed clear disgust that Uther would put himself over the lives of others, allow more to be sacrficed to war, all for his pride.

Uther gave him a cold glare of disdain and said, “I have heard enough. I care for the people of Camelot and that is why I have banished sorcery for years. You have beaten my armies with your powers, but I will continue to do my best for my people.”

“Merlin, please, there is no sense arguing with him,” Arthur said, tugging again on his hand. “Let us go, as planned.”

“You serve only yourself, Uther Pendragon. And these lies you have told yourself will consume your soul, but they will not consume me.” Merlin said and looked to Arthur, and reminded himself that Arthur would never thank him for putting Uther in his place. And so with a small nod, Merlin turned to leave with his husband.

Arthur was indeed upset at the way Uther and Merlin spoke to each other. He wasn’t pleased with the insinuation about his father, since it rebounded back on him, as well. At least he was willing to learn and change his mind, something beyond his father, but still ... well, Merlin’s words hurt. As they left the throne room and his still glaring father, he carefully extricated his hand from Merlin’s. “I apologize again for my father. I wish he was a better man. Of course, if he was, things would be very different.”

“I am sorry, and wish to apologize too, Arthur.” Merlin said, his tone softer and much calmer. “It was not my intention to come here this morning to fight with your father. I should have shown greater care with my words.”

“He is the master of inciting one to speak more than one wants,” Arthur said. “You think I wished to tell him the truth of our marriage?” He shook his head. “And I have a lifetime of dealing with him. You are new to the pleasure.” He swung his heavy cape around his shoulders and fastened it, even as they stepped outside, where their horses and traveling companions waited in the courtyard. “But you are convincing as well, Merlin. I believe my soul and his are doomed.”

Merlin followed Arthur to his horse, rather than going to his own. He placed a hand on the saddle to keep Arthur from climbing up straight away. “I should not have said that, Arthur.” He said quietly, trying to meet his eyes. “My words were not meant to be a judgment upon you.”

Arthur turned to him and said, “You cannot judge one of us without judging the other, Merlin. And I know what you think of my father. If not for something I still don’t understand, you’d think no better of me. It hurts to see your hatred for my father in your eyes and face.” He hung his head and leaned into his horse.

Letting his hand slide down the saddle, no longer blocking Arthur’s way, Merlin nodded solemnly. “You have learned to open your heart to magic, and to people like me. But my heart is still closed to Uther, and I need to do better. I am sorry for what I said, Arthur, it truly was not my intention to speak as I did. I will do better.” He promised with a nod to himself before moving away from Arthur and his horse. 

“You are not required to forgive him,” Arthur said. “What he did was basically unforgivable. So many people dead for nothing.” He put a hand on Merlin’s right shoulder and squeezed. “I am the one who needs to forgive myself ... and him.” He offered a slight smile to Merlin.

For Arthur to reach out to him like this, and smile, helped reassure Merlin that Arthur would not hold this against him for too long. Though Merlin did recognize that he had hurt Arthur with his words, and would avoid doing so again. “I do not want this to sour our trip, Arthur.” Merlin said, attempting a weak smile as well.

“No, I want you to think well of Camelot and her people,” Arthur agreed. “Despite her somewhat questionable royalty.” His smile widened a little at the dark joke on himself. “You are kind to me, Merlin, and I do appreciate it. We shall have fun on our trip. Is there anything you’d like me to do?”

“Do?” Merlin prompted and shook his head at the same time. “You don’t have to do anything, husband.” Merlin briefly touched Arthur on the side of his arm. “I am looking forward to exploring the countryside.” He said as he stepped back to mount his own horse. “Let’s enjoy the ride, it should be a wonderful day for it.”

“Yes, this is a pleasant day for a ride. I have always loved a ride on a day like this,” Arthur said and patted Llamrei on the neck. He mounted easily and settled into the saddle. “Shall we lead the way, Merlin?” He turned her head and urged her forward, the touches each on her flanks.

Merlin smiled far more brightly now. “Yes, I would like that.” He said, urging his own horse to come up beside Arthur. “I am with you, husband. Lead the way.” He said, intending to keep up with whatever pace Arthur set.

Arthur gestured to the guards behind them to move with them, and they took up a place well behind. He rode next to Merlin, noting how well he sat a horse. “You ride well. Are horses your primary mount, since you are not bonded with a dragon?”

“Thank you, Arthur. I know you have been riding since you could walk, and therefore far better trained ... but no, I would say my time is split evenly between riding horses and riding dragons. Or walking.” Merlin added softly, thinking that was probably not well regarded for a person of rank.

“Or what?” Arthur asked, leaning in. “You rather whispered that last, Merlin. Are you trying keep secrets from your husband?” He hoped Merlin might like this reference to their marriage. Arthur was trying not only to more accepting, but also find the good in their current bond.

Merlin smiled at Arthur, pleased that the other man continued to call him by name. And that he was clearly willing to be playful. That sat well in his heart. “No secrets, husband.” Merlin assured, before clearing his throat to speak up. “Walking. I do a lot of walking.”

“That is healthy and can be quite a nice way to get time to one’s self,” Arthur said. “Especially if one is not as prone to spending time alone on the practice field, as I am. I suppose we may wander the country lanes together.” 

A smile continued to pull at Merlin’s mouth, he was happy that Arthur wanted to share these things with him. Where he could have just as easily made a comment about walking on foot as something only peasants do. “Thank you, Arthur. I would like that.”

“Tell me, Merlin, if you could visit any one place in the world, where would you choose to go?” Arthur asked. “For myself, I have heard of an enchanted island where the waters are crystal blue and there are all kinds of exotic creatures. It would be nice to be alone in such a place, or just with friends, without the cares of one’s station.”  
  
“An enchanted island?” Merlin prompted. “Where is it?”

“I have traveled some to the north, and south, and a little to the east. But I know there is so much more to see. I want to know where it all ends. _If_ it has an end.”

“You want to go to the ends of the Earth?” Arthur asked. “I imagine that would be quite a journey. And we’d need to leave the kingdom in someone’s trustworthy hands. Unless you can magic yourself there. Could you do that?”

“No, Arthur, no.” Merlin said gently. “There is no need for us to actually make such a journey. I thought this was merely a hypothetical question, if we could ... if we were without obligations ... travel to the ends of the Earth.” Merlin said as he kept his horse in stride with Arthur. “I do not think I could ever leave this land for very long.”

“Are you already in love with her?” Arthur asked. “That does show your good taste. This is a beautiful land. I know almost every inch of her and have found something to love in all of it.” He looked around them with a quiet pride in all he saw. There was a sadness tinged in his expression, though, as he thought of all his family had cost the country.

“In love with her?” Merlin blinked, not at all sure who Arthur was referring to at first. Merlin did not have a ‘her’ in his life. His horse? No. “Oh.” He said after a moment. “Yes.” The land. Which truthfully, Merlin did not think was all that different from the land the Dragonlords came from. It was after all, one body of land, undivided by oceans. The divisions between territories were merely mortal concepts invented by kings.

Arthur laughed at the way Merlin answered and said, “Perhaps I misunderstood your response. I thought you meant you wouldn’t want to be away so long. I feel that way about this country. I have ever since I was old enough to understand my place in her. Do you feel that way about where you come from?”

“I feel strongly about all of Albion. Even if people divide it into different kingdoms, to me it is all one land. With one soul. And so yes, in that sense, I would not want to be away from Albion for very long. But I am starting to relate to Camelot as my home, now.”

“Albion is an idea more than a real place,” Arthur observed with a glance at Merlin. “I have heard it spoken of since I was a child, but in the realm of a fantasy … a goal for all to struggle toward.” He wondered why Merlin felt so strongly for what Arthur himself regarded as an abstract concept.

Merlin’s face twisted with amusement and confusion. Clearly they had been raised to think differently about such things. But that was to be expected. “Before our ancestors came here, the land existed, undiscovered and unspoiled. It was whole. It was only when people began to settle and develop these lands, that we began to think in terms of different kingdoms. But the land itself doesn’t know the boundaries we subscribe to it. Deer and birds and trees and rainstorms do not stop at the borders of one kingdom or another. It is all one land. It is all Albion. Waiting for us, the leaders of the kingdoms, to be united as the Earth is.”

“Is the Earth really so at peace as you say?” Arthur asked, looking around. “Sometimes I think so. Sometimes, I’m sure it’s at war with itself.” His eyes took in the fields that surrounded them, the waving grain in the soft breeze. “Of course, you are more connected to the natural order than I could ever dream of being.”

Merlin followed Arthur’s gaze as he considered the question. “What makes you say that, Arthur?” He asked after a moment. “What about the land feels at war with itself?” Merlin of course had his own beliefs when it came to such things, but wanted to hear what it was that Arthur was feeling, or possibly in tune with.

Arthur frowned at the question, thinking on his answer. “The relationship between the animals, predators and prey. The way floods, blizzards, wildfires, other natural events destroy … Is this just more signs that we are out of balance?” he asked, looking back to Merlin.

“Hm.” Merlin smiled kindly at Arthur, respecting his perspective even though he did not share it. “To my mind, all those are the natural order of things. Hawks were preying on rabbits, and wildfires burned grassland, long before the new, or old, religion.”

“If I may-“ Merlin began again, trying to put it another way, and hoping that Arthur did not mind this conversation, or take offence to it. “Take your horse, for instance. She is a horse, weather you ride her or not. And even if she had Pendragon banners on one side and Dragonlord banners on the other side, she, herself, is not split into two. She is still whole. A horse. Some days she might be well groomed, and some days she will have just rolled around in the mud for hours. Still a horse, no matter her state. Still whole.” 

“That’s why I believe humans are no more than a furtherance of the natural state of things,” Arthur said. “As a band of wolves will naturally fight with another band of wolves, so, too, do we struggle to live together. Our fights just are more expansive and deadly than those between animals.” He patted his mare’s neck. “And I see no reason to pick on my poor horse.” 

“It was merely an example.” Merlin said with a small roll of his eyes. His fingers twisted with the reins and horse’s mane, unsure if they were agreeing or disagreeing. It felt like they were agreeing, though approaching from different perspectives. 

Arthur resisted the urge to stick out his tongue at Merlin like a young child. “You suggested she might go around ungroomed. My lady is far too classy for such things.” And now, it was clear he was playing, in his voice as well as the words. “It would be like my suggesting your dragons are nothing more than lizards after all.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow at Arthur. “Huh, I guess I never realized that you had such a violent death wish.” He chuckled with a shake of his head.

“Not all the time, anyway,” Arthur said with more than a hint of seriousness. He ran a hand through his hair, spiking it everywhere without care. “It is nice to get away from the castle and the nobles and all the expectations and staring eyes. Not to mention the gossip. The constant gossip. It’s gotten even worse of late.”

“Not to make you revisit the things you are trying to get away from ... but what gossip are you referring to?” Merlin watched Arthur with a little bit of sadness. “Is there anything I can do, to help you, husband?”

Arthur regarded Merlin with quiet amazement. “How do you avoid it? Is there some magic I can use?” He blushed at his own words. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have said that. I wasn’t thinking. But have you really heard none of the gossip? The nobility runs on it.”

“Sometimes, I suppose.” Merlin frowned a little, unsure how to explain. “Arthur, when we were married, the people in attendance thought such horrible and graphic things, it was so loud, that it was almost impossible to ignore. But ... I am used to ignoring such thoughts and voices. I’ve probably heard the gossip you are referring to, except truly, for the most part, I have gotten so used to filtering such things out.”

“Graphic?” Arthur asked, now going pale at the implications. “I am certain you did not have to deal with such things before you came to Camelot. At least not so often. But there’s always been gossip around the lives of the nobles, especially their prince. And the king. Not everyone thought his rule was so wonderful, even before he brought destruction down upon us all.”

“If there is anything I can do, Arthur. Tell me.” Merlin said, eyes down as they rode along the otherwise quiet path. 

“You are kind enough as it is, Merlin,” Arthur said softly. “I confess my defenses and walls are not what they once were. Things that were once pricks are barbs now. Of course, knowing things I once dismissed as false are true after all makes it all the worse. I dislike unkindness aimed at you, as well.” He offered him a weak smile. “I find that it makes me more defensive than when I hear evil things about myself and my father.”

“We could always dismiss the entire court of nobles and trust in the motives of our own hearts, without their harmful, useless chatter.” Merlin suggested with a little smirk. Not that stripping nobles of their status would go over well. But Merlin secretly liked the idea.

Arthur laughed at the idea and said, “The two of us could select a whole new court from whomever we wanted. No need for noble blood. Just good people. With good hearts.” He ducked his head and closed his eyes for a second. “I might be excluded, too.”

“The truth of it is, Arthur, we can do that. Not the part about excluding you, but rather ... we can upset the existing conditions of what it means to be a noble. Just as we are going to allow anyone worthy to be a knight, to train and fight as one.”

Merlin kept his eyes fixed ahead on the path as they spoke, knowing that what he was saying might as well be in a foreign tongue. “If the current nobles within the court offer only hardships to the lower classes of Camelot, then they are only serving self interests. We need people who want to see Camelot grow in more ways, then simply lining the pockets of a few, with gold.”

“We need people who share your passion for Camelot.”

“Strong, but just,” Arthur agreed. “Where all are looked after and not just the upper classes. That was always something I wanted to bring to Camelot, though not along with magic. But now, we can build it all. We’ll have to be careful. Change is never easy, and you’ve already dramatically altered our current status.” He offered a smile. “Not that it isn’t a good change.”

“We can make Camelot into anything you wish. Everything you dreamed for your kingdom, but were discouraged from pursuing.” Merlin shared the smile, pleased that Arthur did not instantly reject the radical idea. “Thank you, husband.” Merlin held back on saying more, as it was usually at this point in the conversation he would overstep and taint any progress they had made together.

“Think as terribly of my father as is his due, Merlin,” Arthur said, “but not in that. He was supportive of my ideas for change in the kingdom on those regards. But for me to implement, not so much for him.” He smiled a bit ruefully. “I know how that sounds. He is fixed on his beliefs especially about magic.” His face sobered a bit more. “I’ve never wished more that my mother were alive.”

Merlin nodded, agreeing with the last statement at least. Had Arthur’s mother lived, Uther would have had no reason to go to war against magic all these years. Or perhaps, he would have found an excuse anyway. But at least Arthur would have known his mother, shared in each other’s lives. “I am sorry that I cannot give you that.” 

“One lesson I did learn, Merlin ... never mess with life and death. Magic demands too high a cost for that. And that is only right. My parents never should have used magic to have me ... there were many other ways of getting an heir. How many orphans need parents?” Arthur glanced over at Merlin. “If we really are to remain married, I have thought that is the way to have a child.”

This was a subject that Merlin had been waiting to address, but only when Arthur was ready for it. And considering that Arthur was the one who brought up the subject, Merlin felt free to speak on it. “Before I came into your life, husband, did you imagine yourself as a father? With children? An heir, out of duty, or out of desire?”

Arthur had thought of the subject a few times during his life, especially more recently, when his father talked more earnestly of making a good political match. He had figured that he would need an heir and found himself looking rather forward to fatherhood. Perhaps his marriage would not be for love, but he could (and would) dote on his children. He intended to act the complete opposite to his cold and distant father.

“I never believed I would marry for love,” Arthur said carefully, knowing that was still the truth. “However, I have come to look forward to the idea of children. I would like several, both boys and girls. Be I king or pauper, children would give me someone to care for.”

“I imagine you would do well as a father, Arthur.” Merlin said, suspecting that Arthur would make the extra effort to be everything his own childhood had lacked. “Perhaps there will be a time when we can genuinely entertain the idea.” 

“Do you want children of your own, Merlin?” Arthur asked. “There are ways we could arrange that. It’s not unheard of for people to use surrogate mothers if their wives are unable to have children. I sometimes wonder why my parents didn’t try that approach. It would have avoided magic.”

“I hesitate to speculate, Arthur, but I suspect it was because they loved each other, and wanted a child that was equally half of each of them.” Merlin said gently, then glanced to Arthur, trying to give him a small smile. “Having children or an heir has never been my focus. I have never interpreted it as part of my purpose.” 

“What do you perceive as your purpose that you do not look to have an heir?” Arthur asked. “Has that not been something your family has spoken of from early age? After all, do not Dragonlords pass their powers on from father-to-son?” He was certain that Balinor wanted Merlin to continue their line.

Merlin hesitated and briefly licked his lips, then decided to answer the easier questions first. “Dragonlords do of course pass their powers from father to son. And the dragons themselves can choose to pass on certain aspects of their magic and knowledge to Dragonlords as well.” Merlin watched Arthur in profile for a few more strides before he risked the truth. “My purpose, husband, is you.”

And there it was again, but finally, completely in the open. “Merlin ... did you know you were going to marry me before this war between our peoples started? How could your purpose possibly be me otherwise? And why should it be me?” Arthur hoped Merlin might finally reveal more of his dedication to him.

“I did not know that we were going to be married, husband.” Merlin answered gently, knowing that all of this would be strange to hear. “But I did know, one way or another, I was, and am, meant to be apart of your life. To protect you. To show you the good in magic. To unify our people. And begin a golden age, with Camelot at its center.”

Arthur’s head still swam with questions and yes, doubts, but Merlin seemed so sure. He had always seemed sure of them and their marriage. So, he swallowed them all and asked, “Are you pleased with your purpose, Merlin?”

This was by far the easiest question to answer. Merlin’s entire face shifted, brightened, as he smiled at Arthur. “Very pleased.”

“I am happy to be here with you, Arthur. Partners in building a better world.” Even if neither of really knew what they were doing. They would figure it out, together.

Arthur could not help but smile back at the other man’s response. How could he dislike someone who so sincerely seemed to delight in his presence? “I suppose I have no choice but to do my best to make sure that your vision for this united Albion comes to fruition. Have we made a good start on it, Merlin?”

“It shouldn’t be just my vision, you know.” Merlin said, but then nodded slightly. “I think we have done well so far, Arthur. I think- becoming friends is not so impossible. And building a united Albion is well within our abilities.”

“Well, it should be if it’s an actual ‘vision,’ since I don’t have second sight, as you do,” Arthur teased gently. “However, I believe we both want what’s best for Camelot ... and beyond. Indeed, one could say you’ve a conqueror’s heart.”

“However, my belief in the future we are going to create together is not based in my gift for second sight.” Merlin attempted to explain, knowing that it was all very strange to Arthur, no matter what. “I do not know the exact details of what we will create, together. I have seen many possible futures, but cannot be certain of any of them.”

“I hope they are all good possibilities,” Arthur said. “Do they change as we change?” He wondered if it would make it better or worse to have some idea what life might bring. 

“Most of them were good. Some were strange. And some are still probable. While others are now impossible.” Merlin said with a little smile, knowing that without details it probably made little sense. “And we very well might be on a path, that I never even saw the future for. But ... it does not stop me from striving, to the best of my ability, to a preferred path.”

“That sounds very confusing,” Arthur admitted. “I don’t know how you manage.” He was secretly glad that Merlin had these gifts and not himself. Although some of his magic was more than impressive. “But most of them are good? Some of them are unpleasant? Is there some way to avoid those futures? Or do we just muddle through, doing our best.”

“I must be attentive to the sights and symbols I see, from day to day.” Merlin began, happy to do his best in explaining this, since Arthur was willing and curious to learn. “To oversimplify, for instance, if a sight I’ve previously seen, is for that tree ahead of us to be struck by lightning, I will know that we are drifting towards the future in which such an event were a part of my sight.”

“Do you remember everything you see in your visions?” Arthur asked, wondering at the brain that could do so. “I don’t remember things in that great a detail. What do you do when you do recognize something?” He reached out to tug a leaf off of a nearby tree. 

“Yes, I think I remember everything I see. However, I’ve not been greatly tested, in order to say for certain.” Merlin said as he watched Arthur. “It is a little like ... remembering something, before it happens. For instance, if you plucking that leaf were a vision I experienced ten years ago, then I would be remembering it in the past, even though it only just happened. And so it allows me to be watchful for related sights, especially if there is one that is meant to follow, that I want to avoid. Not that it always works.”

“Magic,” Arthur breathed, voice now filled with awe, where it would have been all fear before. “You really are a remarkable man, Merlin. And I know I haven’t even seen the barest bit of what you are capable of. Although I have a rather uncomfortable memory of just how powerful you are.” He reached up and lightly touched the back of his head, on which he’d landed more than once during their ‘fight.’  
  
“Thank you, Arthur.” The compliment was nice, though the reminder of battle was slightly awkward. Merlin had not wanted to hurt Arthur, then, or now. “I am glad that we can talk about these things. And that your curiosity allows me to share my magic with you.”

“Well, certainly, I know nothing about magic, except for a pack of lies, apparently.” Arthur scowled at the memory of his father’s lectures on the ‘evils’ of magic. “Would you be my teacher, Merlin, and instruct me on all of magic’s forms? I would know them, though I seem to be as magical as a fencepost.”

“Happily, Arthur.” Merlin said with a bright smile, looking at Arthur with great fondness. This was why he was here. This was his purpose. And Arthur was getting to this point, without Merlin pressuring him to adapt.

Arthur felt his face warm under such open, honest regard and had to look away, a bit ashamed by such strong emotion on his behalf. Especially since he still felt so awkward around Merlin. The other man seemed to know him, believe in him, more than Arthur believed in himself. And though he was growing to like the other man, he could not return any kind of equal regard. He had grown to like Merlin, but there was still much he didn’t know about the other man. So much to learn. “I am playing the part of a blushing bride,” he said, willing to confess to his reactions. Merlin would not laugh at him. 

“Sorry-“ Merlin said and dropped his eyes, though a smile, and now perhaps a smirk remained on his lips. “I do not mean to make you uncomfortable, Arthur. But I am truly happy to be here with you. And I like that we will have all this time on the road to talk and get to know each other, without interruption of other duties.” 

“There’s no need to apologize,” Arthur said. “You- well, you like being married to me. How can I complain about that? I mean, that’s what I understand from what you say to me and how you act. I apologize if that remark was forward.” His cheeks remained stained with a blush.

“There is no need for you to apologize either. We are getting to know each other, which includes understanding the other’s humor.” Merlin said, leaving it at the for a few strides before adding. “And I do like being married to you.”

“Oh, you have a sense of humor?” Arthur asked with a little grin. “Have you ever used your magic for more ... humorous purposes?” He imagined that was frowned upon, but could easily see a young Merlin being unable to restrain himself sometimes. Arthur had definitely gotten himself into trouble when he was a boy.

“Two separate things.” Merlin said with a little smile. “But I admit ... there were a few times, when I was young ... when someone deeply annoyed me, or hurt a friend ... I would make them think they were a cow or goat for a few hours ... not that I’m proud of it, not that I should have done it ... but ... it happened.”

Arthur laughed at the chagrined tone of Merlin’s voice. “They thought they were a cow or you made them into a cow?” he asked, thinking of a few people he wouldn’t mind seeing turned into goats. For some of them, there wouldn’t even be much of a transition.  
  
“Mentally, they thought they were cows. So they could only communicate through moos and would chew on grass. Get spooked if someone came up behind them ...” Merlin said, averting his eyes. “Goats are better though, since they’ll chew on anything, including clothing, or attempt to jump up on tables and chairs ... not that I enjoyed it.”

“No, not at all,” Arthur agreed with a low, long laugh. “I rather wager they deserved it. Unlike me, who was a mischief for no reason at all. I terrorized the staff, especially in the kitchen. Cook came to swat at me whenever I appeared. A few feasts went without tarts. Any tarts.” He shook his head a few times with remembrance at his antics. “Sometimes, Cook still restricts my access to them.”

“Really?” Merlin considered this. As a young prince, it wasn’t like Arthur was going hungry, so he didn’t need to steal from the kitchen, unless he wanted to. Which seemed to be the case. “Did you play with friends, when you went on these raids?” 

“I didn’t have any friends,” Arthur confessed with a painful-looking smile. “There were no children of nobles my age ... and my father didn’t let me mingle with commoners. So, I had to find ways to entertain myself, when I could escape my nurses and tutors, of course. I never had a lack of lessons …” He wrinkled his nose in memory of just how many lessons on etiquette his father had forced him to endure. “And when I was older, there was training for knighthood.” He shrugged once and said, “My raids on the kitchens were a childish form of rebellion, I suppose.”

“You are very friendly for having such a lonely childhood, Arthur. Sometimes being raised like that makes people unkind.” Merlin said sympathetically. “I would like to imagine, had we been raised together, we might have been friends.” Merlin smiled sadly, knowing at least in some small part that was true in another universe, another path of reality that they would never know.

“I think we would have been the worst of troublemakers,” Arthur said with a smile for the thought. “What kind of childhood did you have, Merlin? Did you get to play among the dragons from a young age? I can only imagine myself if I’d had them as companions from boyhood.”

“We did not play, as children play. But the dragons were my companions growing up, yes.” Merlin said, sharing Arthur’s smile. “I had a few friends my age, some with magic, some without. Though, thankfully, my father let me run wild when I needed to. To explore magic and nature, myself, without rules or outside influences.” 

“Run wild ... how novel. What would you do while you were out running wild?“ Arthur asked, picturing a young Merlin in rough clothes cavorting with wildlife and practicing magic. “Who was your best friend?”

“I would disappear for a few days, or a few weeks. Follow a herd of deer as they migrate to better grazing, or when they give birth in the spring. Find a single tree and sit by it until the dryads were willing to come speak with me. Learn new kinds of magic from other creatures that exist in this world. Whatever you are imagining, freedom, in all its forms.” Merlin said, thinking of only happy memories.

“Though, I would have to say that Kilgharrah was my best friend ... but he is many things to me, in my life. He is a friend, and father, and brother. So to be fair, William, was my best, non-dragon, friend.”

“Dryads?” Arthur asked. “I don’t know much about dryads. Were they friendly when they came to speak? Or would nobody dare to be cruel to a boy with the Great Dragon as his best friend? I can see why your father wouldn’t need to worry about your safety. I couldn’t go anywhere outside of the castle by myself.”

“Dyads are tree spirits. And they are usually rather shy. But friendly and kind when they are willing to show themselves to you.” Merlin smiled, looking at the trees they were passing, even though no forest spirit was about to make themselves known to the entourage.

“And you are right, Kilgharrah is an impressive body guard, but some creatures cannot help their nature, so you have to be patient with them, even if their nature is chaotic and about causing mischief. Like the kelpie or pixies.”

Arthur looked around them at the trees, wondering if Merlin were indicating the spirits were around them even now. “How does one persuade a dryad to come speak? Not that I believe any spirit would come talk to me, given my father. And I’ve heard of both kelpies and pixies ... but how dangerous can a pixie be? Aren’t they small?” He made an approximate size with his hands.

“Yes, pixies are small. But they ... how can I put this gently.” Merlin pretended to think it over. “They tend to bite. People. Horses. Dogs. They just like to bite things. It is not exactly malicious ... but ... it’s what they do.” Merlin shrugged it off, not thinking much of it.

“Maybe tonight, when we make camp for the night, we can see if a dryad is willing to talk to us. If you are willing to try. Though I cannot make any promises.”

Arthur laughed a little at the idea of pixies biting everything in their path. “Have you ever dealt with biting pixies? You sound like you have experience.” He could hardly imagine a more different upbringing than Merlin’s from his own. “Oh ... would a dryad be willing to speak to me? If you accompanied me.” He looked at Merlin with intense hope and interest.

“Yes, I admit, I’ve been bitten by pixies. Especially when I was younger, and I did not know the difference between pixies and sidhe. They can look similar, though the sidhe have stronger magic. Anyway-“ Merlin frowned slightly. “It is not a mistake I will make again.”

“Personally, I suggest staying clear of both of them.” Merlin added with a little sigh, not wanting to scare Arthur off, but not all magical creatures would make for positive encounters. “But I think a dryad would talk to us. As long as it is not too late at night. They tend to sleep as soon as the sun goes down.”

“Maybe before we eat,” Arthur said. “The others will insist on making dinner anyway. We can find a likely tree and you can work your magic. Or however it is that one asks a dryad for conversation. What do we talk to them about?”   
  
“Anything you want, Arthur.” Merlin said with a smile. “They are good listeners, which means they have gossip to share, though sometimes they speak in terms we, as humans, cannot relate to. Like ... fungal growth.”

“Gossip,” Arthur said with a shake of his head. “Even magical creatures cannot avoid it. Still, I’d like to hear what passes for gossip among tree spirits. It must be more interesting than human gossip, anyway. Although ... fungal growth? I could be wrong.”

Merlin laughed softly. “Try to understand it as ... the trees talk to each other, and the dryads are the spirits within certain trees. So they will have a lot to say about weather patterns and seasonal flooding ... or bird migrations or rare sightings within the forest. But they are also good at helping people who are lost in the forest, especially children.”

“The trees talk to each other?” Arthur asked, completely thrown again. “Can you hear them talk to each other?” He looked around them. “Is there some way I could hear them talk? Would I want to? I imagine they might not care much for humans, either.”

Merlin blushed softly, embarrassed on behalf of his husband, and how much things like this illustrated just how differently they were raised. “Oh, no Arthur. We cannot hear them communicate. Magic or no, we can’t hear them. But dryads can. And we, if we are kind and soft spoken, can speak to dryads. I don’t know what trees actually say, or feel, I imagine it is too complex for us to understand.” 

“Too complex?” Arthur said and gave his full body a bit of a shake. “Well, you’ve certainly taught me a lot about being humble since we first met. I never thought I would one day come to realize that the trees are smarter than I am. I always believed I would at least have it over on the plant life.”

“Sorry, Arthur ... I didn’t mean ...” Merlin swallowed and looked down at his hands and the reins he barely needed to manipulate. “I don’t know how to talk to trees, either. It was not my intention to make you feel bad about yourself, or your standing.” 

Arthur snorted and said, “There’s no need to apologize, Merlin. It’s all for the best. I used to strut around like the proverbial peacock. Now, I know better. A little bit of humbleness is good for a person. I’m told, anyway.” He reached out to lightly poke Merlin’s shoulder. “No need to feel upset about it. Nothing more humbling than facing you down on a battlefield.”  
  
Merlin was quiet for a time, even with the slightly affectionate gesture that was rare for Arthur to demonstrate with him. “Do you hate me for that day, Arthur? Do you hate that is how we met? That ... when you think of me, that is your first memory of me, and who, or what I am?”

“Hate? At first, I guess. But it’s too strong a word now.” Arthur considered the question carefully, trying to analyze how he felt. It was a complicated tangle inside him, knotted with his father and his lifelong education about the evils of magic and losing his place in life and Merlin being kind to him. “I regret our meeting. That I was out to kill you and your people ... and you had to subdue me rather forcefully. Though without a lot of effort.”

“I regret it too, how we met.” Merlin admitted. “I wish we had gotten the chance to meet diplomatically first. Even though there still would have been mistrust.” Merlin glanced to Arthur, a bit sad and a bit jealous of all the other timelines that had started Merlin and Arthur off on an easier path.

“Or even socially, though that was impossible for my father. It’s harder because I was unbeaten on the battlefield for so long,” Arthur confessed. “As much as humility may be good for a person, being humiliated by the man one is than ordered to marry is a bit awkward.” He offered another smile. “Unless he turns out to be strangely sweet to you.”

Again, Merlin was quiet for a time, before he spoke up again. “I do not want you to feel humiliated, Arthur. Because, yes, I am sweet on you.”

“And as dangerous, or humbling being around my magic is ... that power ... it’s meant to be the sword you wield in battle ... it is not meant to be used against you.”

“Sweet on me,” Arthur murmured. “You utterly ridiculous man, how can you be sweet on me?” He spoke louder to Merlin. “Your magic is supposed to be my sword? Like, I ask you to use your magic and you do?”

This was not how Merlin meant to address this subject. Really, Merlin meant to show Arthur, in a moment of need, not tell him like this. “Well ... yes, Arthur.” Merlin breathed.   
  
Arthur blinked a few times at him and said, “Your magic shouldn’t be ordered around by anyone else. I don’t think that’s right. It’s part of you. I see how it’s an extension of your personality and body. Natural. And why would you use it for me? I mean, as partners, yes. We work with each other.”

“I don’t think-“ Merlin began and looked at Arthur for a moment before he started over. “I am going to say something, Arthur, and I want you to just ... sit on it for a bit. Think it over.”

Merlin drew in a deep breath, then continued. “A part of our partnership is that I have this power, this magic. But you are the right choice for being the face of that power. In time we will be co-kings. But I believe you should be the king of Camelot that history remembers. And I will be the magic, that supports you, and gets you there.”

“I- don’t know what to say to that,” Arthur admitted. “But I’ll think about it, like you said.” He let them ride a moment in silence. “What about the rest of our marriage? I mean- if you want ... I am not adverse to your winning me over.” He ducked his head a little. “I’ve never been the one pursued.”

Merlin sucked greedily at his lower lip, eyes darting to Arthur quickly at this sudden willingness. “Oh? You’re not adverse to it, hm? That means you’ve thought about it.” Merlin grinned.

“Since it became clear you were more than thinking of consummating our marriage as a duty that needed to be fulfilled. That you were actually disappointed when I wasn’t interested ... when I was, in fact, disturbed by the very idea. You are not without your charms, Merlin,” Arthur teased, but his expression was serious. “I am not ready yet, but perhaps I am ready to consider the idea. It would be best to be true partners.”

“Mmhn.” Merlin smirked and drew up his reins, getting his horse to wake up from the slumbering walk they’ve been at. “But you want to be charmed, seduced ... you want to be pursued.” He said the last as he got his horse to steer into Arthur’s mount, nudging them along so that Arthur’s horse would pick up its feet and start to move faster, trying to stay ahead of the chaos Merlin was introducing to their ride.

Llamrei snorted and tossed her head at the way the other horse knocked into her side, even as Arthur steered her easily away. “What are you doing?’ he asked Merlin, though he was not perturbed, just curious. “Seduced? Are you going to try to seduce me, Merlin?”

“We shall see, Arthur Pendragon. But right now, you are going to be pursued. So. Run.” Merlin said with a grin, nudging into Arthur again, wanting to give Arthur the opportunity to be chased. 

Arthur threw back his head and laughed, surprising everyone in their party, except, perhaps, for Merlin. He ducked his head to Merlin and said, “No horse without magic can beat my Llamrei.” And so saying, he gently nudged her ribs and leaned down as she dashed forward, always eager to run.

Giving his own horse some encouragement, Merlin raced after Arthur with delight. Though the guards in their party were less amused and were running after both Merlin and Arthur at something of a delayed response. Giving the two men a healthy head start.

This was fun. Which was good for them. After all, Merlin had no real plan for seducing Arthur. The man would either come to care for him, maybe even love him, or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t something a flirtatious conversation or tender gesture would suddenly inspire.

Arthur wished he knew a little better how good of a rider Merlin really was. He was tempted to try some jumps, but didn’t want to end up endangering his husband unintentionally. He still made sure to make the run interesting, urging his mare on with gentle nudges and his voice. She responded to him eagerly, ears back in enjoyment at being allowed to run. 

“You’re falling back, _Mer_ lin!” he called back.

“On your heels!” Merlin shouted, a full length behind Arthur. Not for lack of trying. His horse eagerly huffed, stretching out its neck to keep up. And while Merlin continued to coax his horse, he did not use magic to cheat. He did not put objects in Arthur’s way, or cast a spell on his own horse. The race was about playing this game, not about winning. 

Arthur laughed again and steered them down toward a bridge, spanning a small creek. And because Merlin would have an option and he did really enjoy jumping, he aimed Llamrei for the stream and urged her a step faster. With a whoop of joy, he lifted himself in his stirrups as she flew over the water and to the other bank.

“Feeling brave?” Merlin asked his horse, not knowing the animal’s confidence level. But he raced on after Arthur, fisting the dark mane in his hands with the reins before making the jump. Merlin was happy to discover that his horse was a fine jumper, ears forward and attentive.

Arthur glanced behind him as he heard another thud of hooves. He made a noise of delight at the sight of Merlin finishing a smooth landing on the bank behind him. With a little tug at his mare’s reins, he circled around Merlin and came up on his side. “That was a lovely jump. Viceroy does love to jump. He’s a gelding, but he still thinks he’s a stallion sometimes.”

“It was a risk. I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me.” Merlin said, making strong eye contact with Arthur, clearly meaning more than his relationship with the horse. “But it turned out alright, even if he can’t keep up with you.” Merlin said with a smile, soothing his hand on Viceroy’s shoulder.

“It is Llamrei who deserves that credit, not I,” Arthur said. “And you proved your bravery again, not that it needed proving. You are willing to take leaps of faith. Including literal ones.” He eased his mount to walk beside Merlin again. “You make me want to follow your example.”

“That is quite a compliment, husband. Thank you.” Merlin said and smiled to himself, eyes briefly dropping as he eased his hold on the reins, letting the horses walk calmly together after their run.

“And such modesty to top it all off,” Arthur observed quietly. “Power, humility and wisdom. A trifecta. And you are not unattractive, either. How is it that you do not have more people falling at your feet? Or perhaps you do.” He grinned his snaggletoothed smile.

Merlin’s smile continued to grow, warm and honest. “You are much better at flirting then I will ever be.” Merlin admitted. “And I hope that some day, you will want to kiss me, as much as I want to kiss you. But until then, I am not going to force it ... I am not actually going to try to seduce you, Arthur, I much rather earn your trust, and your love, if I can, the honest way, over time.”

“Oh, well, at least I have that on my side,” Arthur said with a brief snort at Merlin. Still, the rest of his declaration caused a deep red blush to sweep his cheeks. “I think you are doing very well with your flirting, Merlin. Little speeches like that are rather well for it.”

It was so delightful to see Arthur blush. And this wasn’t the first time, either. It made Merlin re-think his life purpose. Make Arthur blush. Forever. “Oh dear, do I make speeches?” Merlin chuckled.

“Declarations for certain,” Arthur said with a small, personal smile for Merlin. “And intense ones. You leave even the most cynical of men reeling. Just offhand declaring you love them. Me.” He dropped his head as he spoke the last word. “Me,” he repeated, disbelief in that one word.

“Arthur ... surely I am not the first, or last, or only, person to love you.” Merlin said, dark eyebrows slanting into a subtle frown. 

“In his own way, I suppose my father may love me,” Arthur mused, “but he has never told me so. Not in my memory, at least. So, thank you, Merlin, for being the first person to ever say that to me.” He offered another sad, sweet smile and then turned back to the road, falling silent as they continued on their path.


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin tried to draw out further conversation from Arthur, but after the subject of Merlin being willing to declare his love for Arthur so easily and openly, Arthur only managed a few short responses. So Merlin took the cue to remain quiet and simply enjoyed their ride together.

And really, what was there not to like. Clear skies and healthy trees providing convenient shadows that spared them from the heat of the day. Merlin enjoyed a few wildlife sightings, though suspected that as a hunter, Arthur had different instincts when it came to seeing deer cross their path.

When they broke their ride at the end of the day, Merlin dismounted his horse, thanked him for the safe journey, and spoke to him in soft tones as he removed his saddle and brushed him down for the evening. It was probably something he was meant to leave to the servants to do, but Merlin was still accustomed to being independent. 

Arthur hopped off easily and untacked Llamrei as the second nature it was to him. He continued to be quiet, but only because he was still trying to digest being told that Merlin loved him. The idea made him run both hot and cold all over. How could Merlin love him after so short a time? Could he possibly know him well enough for that? But if he did ... wouldn’t that be good? Wouldn’t that be even better than good?

“We’ll be sharing a tent tonight,” Arthur whispered to Merlin as they groomed their horses. 

Merlin perked up, happy to have Arthur talking again. “Will that be alright, Arthur?” He asked gently. “With you?” After all, ever since their marriage, Arthur had retreated back to his own room at night, when it was more or less acceptable to do so. They hadn’t actually shared a bed together, not even a room.

“Yes,” Arthur said. “I think perhaps it will be good for me ... for us. We will have to share rooms together on many occasions. And we should at home, too ... eventually. Have you shared a bedroll before, Merlin?”

“I confess, I have not done that before.” Merlin said, giving Viceroy’s chin and cheek a few little scratches before leaving his horse to rest for the evening. Merlin was selfishly happy to be sharing a tent with Arthur tonight, and was also surprised and delighted to hear that Arthur was willing to share a room with him on other occasions, too. Not that anything would happen between them. Arthur was still clear that he was not ready for that. So only sleeping would be taking place. But Merlin was happy for even just that.

“Really? Even in all the time you spent with nature?” Arthur asked. “Well, I will show you how to make up a roll so that two can be comfortable and warm together.” He stroked Llamrei’s nose and kissed her muzzle once, before heading for the campsite. Several of their knights were starting to erect shelters. He snagged one of the packs to get out their own shelter and began to set it up. 

Merlin followed Arthur, hands at his sides as he watched him set up their tent. “Thank you, husband.” He said, watching briefly before he sat on the stump of a tree that had been felled some years before.

“Could you use your magic to give me an assist?” Arthur asked, with a glance over at Merlin. He was amused that his husband was sitting this out and decided to tease him a little. “If it’s not too much effort, of course.” He carefully set up the roof of their shelter, using the techniques taught him when he was a kid.

“I mean, I could-“ Merlin said coolly, though smirked at Arthur. With a subtle gesture of his left hand and a golden glow of his eyes, several of the posts used for the outside frame of the tent, rose off the ground and stood into place for Arthur to tarp.

Arthur stared at the way the poles stood at attention and nodded to Merlin. “Now, that’s help,” he said with a grin, before hammering them more permanently into place. He strung the sides of their shelter and secured them in place. “Here we are.” He gestured to the pack. “Send me the bedrolls?”

But this Merlin actually got up to retrieve himself, carrying one under each arm. As he approached, he looked in through the flap of the tent and smiled a little. It was small, but would be enough for the two of them. “Here you are, husband.” 

“Come in,” Arthur invited. “Take off your boots.” His own were now tucked in a corner of the shelter. He knelt on a flooring of hides, carefully arranged. “Hand me the bedrolls, please.” He reached back for them.

Merlin handed over both of the bedrolls before he stepped in. Taking off his boots and placing them in the corner alongside Arthur’s boots. Then knelt down opposite Arthur. He couldn’t stop staring at him, which sometimes happened when he was so fixated on the other man.

Arranging the bedrolls with ease, he molded them together into a comfortable arrangement for two. “How does that look? Test the softness.” He scooted out of the way and asked, “Do you have a preferred side of the bed, Merlin?”

“I cannot say that I do.” Merlin said and shifted to lay out on his side, giving Arthur room opposite him. “This is good, Arthur. I think we can make this work, right?” He prompted, patting the space next to him with his right hand.

“Well, I’m not the one who’s never shared before,” Arthur said with a soft smile. “You’re going to have to get used to not being able to hog all of the blankets.” He stretched his legs out and sighed. “Hope we have something decent to eat.”

“What makes you think I am selfish with blankets? I will not let you freeze, Arthur.” Merlin said with a half eye roll. Sitting up, Merlin turned to get his boots back on. “Let’s go sit by the fire and get you something to eat.”

“Who said you were?” Arthur asked. “It’s not selfish when you’re all by yourself.” He tilted his head, eyebrows raised. “Oh, you promise to keep me warm, Merlin?” He made the name a lilting tease.  
  
“Yes. I do.” Merlin said simply, looking back at Arthur with a weak smile, that only pulled at one corner of his mouth. He understood that Arthur was curious, maybe even interested, and yet at the same time also wasn’t ready. So these flirtatious comments were hard to navigate. “Unless you rather that I not.”

Arthur lightly patted Merlin’s right shoulder and said, “I know you won’t let me get cold, Merlin. And I won’t take up everything, either. That’s the main complaint I’ve gotten, I spread out and use all of the space.” He eased toward the exit to the tent and snagged his boots. “Just poke me in the side if I do.”

Once his boots were back on, Merlin stood and ducked out of the tent. The evening light was already fading, but thankfully their escort had already made a few small fires around camp, and one large one that was centralized for cooking and keeping warm. 

Arthur followed Merlin out of their shelter, hoped their escort knew enough not to make any indecent comments. He settled into a comfortable spot near the main fire and watched the preparations for dinner being made. “Tell me the arrangements for watch,” he said and listened with satisfaction to the plans for a three-man guard. “Tomorrow night, I will be taking a turn. Merlin, would you also want to be on watch?”

Merlin frowned and glanced to the others, then back to Arthur. “Is that what is expected of me?” He asked very softly, so that only Arthur heard his uncertainty. Being on guard was not something he had ever done before, nor did he expect it to be a duty of a king. But Arthur knew more about these traditions than Merlin did. 

“No. Nothing is expected of the heir to the throne,” Arthur said. “In this respect anyway.” He had asked only so Merlin did not feel left out or in some way different from the rest of them. He himself always volunteered for the post, feeling it was part of his responsibility. “I thought you might want to take a post.”

Stepping closer, Merlin glanced down with a shake of his head. Then meeting Arthur’s blue eyes, he gave an honest answer. “No, Arthur. I’ve never taken watch before, so I almost certainly will fall asleep. And that is not fair to anyone.”

“No matter. It is almost certainly less dangerous for the heir apparent not to take such risks,” Arthur said. “And there are more than enough of us to make up a fair watch and not tire anyone too much.” He settled himself back into place and gestured. “Will you not take a seat, my Lord? I believe dinner will not be much longer.”

Merlin sat quietly next to Arthur and sighed again. He could not help but feel that he had disappointed Arthur with his answer. But they were different. And this was just one of the obvious ways. Arthur was raised a knight, with codes of fellowship, and training that installed these sorts of habits, like standing guard. Merlin did not have them.

Arthur heard the sigh and gently nudged Merlin. “Don’t look so down. Dinner can’t be that bad.” He grinned as the soldier working on the dinner gave him a grumpy look. “And the night looks to be fair. Not too warm, nor too cold. The stars are all out above us. A good omen for the trip.”

“I agree with you there, husband.” Merlin said and unconsciously hooked his arm with Arthur as he tilted his head up to watch the night sky become darker and the stars become brighter. “When the sky is unfolded like this, it is good.”

“Good,” Arthur said and moved so their hand could twine. “I would not have you scowling all night.” He squeezed gently. “One of my first tutors taught me the names of the stars. But I am not sure if he made them up or if all share the same names for them.”

Deeply grateful, Merlin squeezed back and kept their fingers interlocked. “I shall test you, then. Let me see ... an easy one.” Merlin searched the sky, though a few he wanted Arthur to name were too low on the horizon and therefore out of view since the trees obstructed their line of sight. “Do you know which is the north star?”

“I hope we all use the same for that, since it’s a key point of guidance for travel,” Arthur said and pointed to the North star with his free hand. “I was shown that star first. It was explained to me how to use the star if I ever got lost. I used to think of the star as a friend.” He looked to Merlin. “Same star?”

Merlin leaned in slightly as if needing to see Arthur’s line of sight. Though he really didn’t, and so smiled softly. “Yes, Arthur. It is the same. A constant, for many.”

Arthur found a little smirk quirking his mouth as Merlin leaned into him, a move he’d used a few times on people he was interested in. “My tutor called the group of stars the North star is part of the dipping cup, like for water.”

“Yes, that’s right. I was told the same.” Merlin sighed happily, enjoying the sight of the stars, some more pronounced then others. Brighter. Bluer. Even red. “Sometimes the night sky feels like a heavy blanket you cover yourself with, in winter. But instead of being woven with linen or wool ... it is something that not even magic can explain.”

“I always loved the dogs the best,” Arthur said, seeking them out and than pointing into the sky again. “At least that’s what I was taught to call them. The lead dog and the trail dog.” He traced them in the air. “Of course, they could also be horses …”

“Yes ... two dogs, and there-“ Merlin slowly traced out the outline, as it was a little more complex. “The hunter, with his bow. Though I have heard some people call it a hero, with a shield, instead of a bow.”

“Which do you see?” Arthur said, trying to visualize what Merlin pointed out. “That one may be beyond my power to visualize.” He laughed softly. “I think my tutor said that was a storm cloud ... does that even make any sense?”

“A storm cloud?” Merlin repeated back and tried to understand it. “I always understood it better as a hunter, since he had the two dogs with him. Whereas telling a story of two dogs with a hero, does not make as much sense. Here-“ Merlin picked up Arthur’s hand and helped him point with it. “This is his torso, and belt. This is his arm and the curve of his bow.” He said, wanting Arthur to see it too.

Now they were holding both hands, and Arthur felt warm at the easy assumption on Merlin’s part. Perhaps there was hope that they could be friends through their reign. There were far worse political marriages. He followed the tracing and said, “I suppose-” with a bit of doubt. “I never was very good at trying to see pictures in the stars.” He moved their joined hands to point to a bright light in the sky, which was reddish. “How about that? It doesn’t go with any other stars.”

“You are right, husband. It does not behave like the other stars. It is not always in the same place, like the others, which can be charted. Kilgharrah tried to explain it to me once, but in truth, I did not understand.” Merlin said with a hopeless shrug.

“Well, then we can come up with our own story for it,” Arthur said. “For example, it may be the eye of a great beast that watches over us all. Or the last vestige of some evil being that was banished to the skies for all time to watch over the Earth, but be unable to share in what it sees.” He dropped their joined hands and looked a bit sheepish.

“I don’t see why not.” Merlin smiled at Arthur. “You might be right ... I think there are stories from the east that call it an old god, that keeps trying to get back to Earth, but can’t. But why do you think it is evil?”

“Well, the first explanation wasn’t an evil creature. But if the being were vanished and unable to participate anymore in life ... wouldn’t you prefer it to be evil? I hate to think of a benevolent being stuck in such a way.” Arthur gazed up at the red star with renewed interest. “That would make it sad.”  
  
“It would be sad.” Merlin agreed. “But sometimes that is the way of things.” Merlin accepted the bowl of stew that was being served to them, though waited until Arthur was served his before he began to eat.

Arthur’s face fell a bit, darkness at its edges. “Yes. There is more of evil and sad in the world than good sometimes. Perhaps always.” He eased away from Merlin to take his own bowl with a quiet ‘thanks’ to the man who handed it to him. “But why burden our tales to also be so? Isn’t life bad enough?”

“I am not saying that is the way it has to be, Arthur.” Merlin frowned slightly, not sure why he earned such a cold shoulder. “The story can be anything you wish, since none of us know the truth.”

Arthur had not meant it as a shun of Merlin, but the words had reminded him of his father and Camelot’s current predicament. “Yes, there are many things about which we will never know the full truth.” He took a spoonful of stew and looked pleasantly surprised at the flavor. “Oh, we many have found our cook.”

Merlin lifted his gaze and gave the guard that had prepared their meal a little smile. “Do you have much experience, preparing meals, when with your knights? On the road?” Merlin asked, making conversation on a neutral subject while they ate. 

“Yes, though my talents lay elsewhere,” Arthur confessed. “I am best at putting together cold foods, like plates of cured meat, bread and cheese. With wine.” He laughed softly at his own ineptitude at cooking. “I have tried a few stews in my time, but they were all disasters.”

“That’s alright, Arthur.” Merlin said with a little smile, imagining to himself a time when Arthur might, willingly, serve him breakfast in bed, or wine one evening while they talk. “My talents lay elsewhere, too.”

“Good thing there is a royal kitchen to serve us,” Arthur agreed. “We should be feted everywhere we travel, as well. I find often that country cooking is better than any other. Especially their breads. Perhaps being so close to the fields where the crops are actually grown makes a difference?”

“Yes, I imagine that is true. Grains or vegetables that are brought in from the country, dry out after a few days of travel ... but cooking in the country means preparing foods within hours of it being harvested.”

“I can prepare a kill,” Arthur said. “I was taught not to waste anything in that regard. And never to kill anything without a reason. Though I know some nobles take trophies.” He had mixed feelings about that, since some of his better memories as a teenager were from his father’s approval of his hunting skills.  
  
Merlin twisted his mouth to the side, not liking the idea of trophies, but kept quiet and without judgment on the issue. So instead he continued to eat his meal until he had his fill, settling the bowl to the side and sitting forward to warm himself by the fire.

“You could change that practice if you wanted,” Arthur said, observing the discomfited look on Merlin’s face. “Nobody needs trophies of that sort.” He wouldn’t mind the cessation of such hunting. “WIll you still allow tournaments? Those are important for knights.”

“Personally, I would like to discontinue the practice of trophies. Though I cannot imagine trying to control it. It would make things like unicorn horns and phoenix feathers even more rare and prized to those who value such things. And in contrast to that, there are already laws against poaching game, that would be considered property of the king ... but I have difficulty justifying the idea that a king should enjoy exclusive rights to boar and deer, when peasants must get by with rabbits, at best.” Merlin let his eyes glaze over as he stared into the orange flames of the fire.

“Of course you can still have tournaments, Arthur. I know they are tradition and allows knights to exercise their skill.”

“We do not have such laws in Camelot,” Arthur said, “and it would be easy enough to enforce them among the local nobles. And if they follow the rules, they will make jealousy sure everyone else does. And we can easily lead by example.” He set aside his finished bowl, which he would clean later.

He relaxed even more and said, “I’m glad that the tournaments can continue. Perhaps we can include magic users, as well.”

“What- like wizarding duels?” Merlin giggled. “Those are not exactly friendly, and I don’t want magic to be seen as violent ... when that is only one, unfortunate purpose, it can be used for.”

“Wizarding duel,” Arthur said, obviously thinking that idea rather interesting. “Perhaps something less dangerous than? Showing off non-violent magical skills? There must be some that can be shared in a tournament like arena?”

“I will have to think it over.” Merlin said, his mind slowly working over possibilities, though none stood out as the perfect choice. “We can discuss including magic, if we come up with something that is appropriate.” He said, intending to ensure that Arthur approved of the suggestion, so that an alternative point of view was taken into consideration, before a final decision was made. 

“Well, there are lots of ways magic can be used, right?” Arthur asked. “Transformations. Illusions. Conjuring. Nothing dangerous. Though, after all, tournaments can be dangerous for knights. They get killed sometimes. It has been years since it happened, but when I was young, I accidentally killed another knight in the ring.”

“This is true, Arthur. Perhaps we can test individuals based on skill level, performing individual tasks, since magic tends to be about personal strengths and not about competition against others.”

However, at the mention of Arthur killing another knight during a tournament, Merlin gave him his entire focus and attention. “How old were you?” He asked gently, imagining at any age, it would be traumatic. The idea of killing someone that would have likely been a friend, a brother, was deeply troubling. 

“I was fifteen,” Arthur said. “And so proud of my skills already. The other knight was older, long experienced ... it was just an unfortunate blow. But I have never forgotten it ... how it felt when my lance hit his head instead of his side. I have never killed anyone before or since whom I did not mean to in a time of battle ... though I regret some of those people, too.” He took a deep breath and looked to Merlin. “When you are secure as king, I believe I must take a journey, alone, to all corners of the land and make my amends. And to other lands, as well.”

It was difficult to hear, but expected, since Arthur had been raised to be a knight from an early age, it meant being exposed to death and the related trauma at an early age too. “If that is what you need, Arthur.” Merlin said, unable to say that he understood. His entire focus was on keeping Arthur in Camelot and apart of its growth. He did not understand Arthur’s desire to be anywhere else.

“There are amends I must make to many people,” Arthur said. “And I will not feel right until I do. I do not believe I can make up for all of the wrongs committed by my family, but I must try. Some of them you and I can do together, but some, I must do alone. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Arthur.” Merlin said with a small nod. Lightly closing his eyes, Merlin continued to warm himself by the fire.

“I am not sure you do, but that’s alright. Perhaps it is even good. I am glad you do not bear anything so deep and dark on your conscience,” Arthur said. “It is more than anyone should have to carry around with him.” He put a hand on Merlin’s nearest leg and squeezed lightly.

Merlin opened his eyes and turned his head to look back over at Arthur. “You surprise me, sometimes.” He said, which really shouldn’t be any sort of surprise, since they had not been married very long.

Arthur offered a slightly awkward smile and asked, “In a good or bad way, Merlin?” He knew that he was often not what others expected, sometimes not to his favor. But he hoped somehow that Merlin did not find him even more lacking than before.

“In a good way, Arthur. I assure you.” Merlin said, his smile was small, but genuine.

The guards that made up their escort sat separate from Arthur and Merlin, laughing and talking together, though not loud enough to be heard. And it struck Merlin that Arthur had more in common with them, and since he was denied friendships in the past, would be more prone to befriending them.

“I am going to retire, Arthur. But you do not need to join me until you are ready. Good night, husband.” Merlin said, touching his hand as he got up to stand.

“Why so soon, Merlin?” Arthur asked. “Has the journey worn you out? I did not think we had pushed too hard.” He looked around them. “The night is still young. However, if you wish.” He closed his fingers around Merlin’s and squeezed once. “I shall join you shortly.”

“Not worn out, Arthur. But not sociable either.” Merlin gently returned the gesture, making eye contact with Arthur as he did so, before letting go. “I will not deter you from your routines.” 

Understanding the desire for privacy, Arthur nodded once to Merlin and said, “Of course, Merlin. If I do not see you again before you sleep, rest well. I will stir you in the morning.” He released his husband’s hand and let his own fall back to his side. He wondered what routines Merlin might be referring to.

“Thank you, Arthur.” Merlin said and nodded once before he quietly walked back to their tent, climbing easily inside where he dressed down to his shirt before wrapping himself in one of the blankets. Here it felt like he could finally take a full, deep breath, perhaps even relax a little. Even though his mind was always busy, including the worries of what Arthur thought of him, or what the guards thought of him.

Arthur checked in with their group, including the Dragonlords, and took one stroll around the perimeter of their campsite. Then, satisfied they were in a good position and the guards could watch them while they slept, he headed back for his and Merlin’s shelter. Opening the flap, he slipped in and surveyed his surroundings. Carefully and quietly, he slipped out of his boots, pants and tunic. He left on his smalls and eased himself into their shared bedroll.

Merlin kept his back to Arthur as he heard him come into the tent and undress, not wanting to infringe upon Arthur’s privacy. Though once he settled into the shared bedroll, Merlin spoke quietly. “Thank you for today, Arthur. I enjoyed spending time with you.”

“Did I wake you?” Arthur asked into the night. “I am sorry, Merlin. I attempted stealth, but it is difficult in the circumstances.” He shifted to his back, which was the most comfortable position for him. “It was a good day, Merlin.”

“I was still awake.” Merlin said, assuring Arthur that he had not been disturbed by him. He laid quietly for a time before deciding to turn over onto his other side, facing Arthur. This was the first time for them to share a bed together, and Merlin did not want to spend it with his back to Arthur. “Do you have enough room?”

“Yes, I am cozy enough, Merlin,” Arthur answered. “You do not take up much space, especially on your side.” He would have made a joke about his legs or ears, had he felt a bit more comfortable with the other man, but refrained given their relationship. “And are you comfortable sharing?”

“I don’t mind this, Arthur. In fact, I like it. It’s not: sleeping in the palm of a dragon, but I like it.” Merlin said with a little smile in the dark, not that Arthur could see his face very well.

“Sleeping in the palm of a dragon,” Arthur said. “That sounds like a unique experience. And from the way you sound, a good one. I had to snuggle up a few times with my hunting dogs when nights got colder than predicted, but that was not the same, I’m sure.” He looked slightly amused at himself, though Merlin couldn’t see him in the dark. 

“I am sure they enjoyed the royal treatment.” Merlin said with a little smile, imagining Arthur at the bottom of a pile of large hunting dogs smothering him with warmth.

Arthur snorted a little in memory and said, “Well, we were all rather comfortable until I got up in a muddle of wet tongues and fur.” He shifted a little more. “Of course, I’ve also shared my bedroll and bed with other people before, too.”

Merlin was quiet for a moment before he responded to Arthur. “Do you miss it? Sharing with someone? Or someone in particular?” He asked, feeling these truths were important to have out in the open.

“There was never anyone in particular ... except briefly in my early teenage years,” Arthur said. “And we were too young to be serious or even know what it meant. Sometimes, I think it would be nice to have someone to hold in my arms in the night, but that has never been more than a passing thought.”

“I know it is not specifically what you want, Arthur, but you can always do that with me. It doesn’t need to mean anything. Other then to make things less lonely.” Merlin said.

Arthur made a face that Merlin could not see in the darkness. “Merlin, would you like me to sleep in your bed? As I know you better now, I would not mind. Though there may be some nights I prefer to spend on my own.”

Merlin was quiet, feeling like his heart was beating so hard it made his ears ring. But of course it wasn’t. And so with a deep breath, Merlin spoke again. “I do not expect you to, Arthur. I am not demanding it. But I would like it. Though only if some small part of you would like it too.”

“I know you don’t expect it, Merlin. You were good to me from the start about not demanding conjugal rights as my husband. It’s one of the reasons I began to trust you from the beginning,” Arthur assured. “And if you would like me to sleep nights with you ... then I will do so. Perhaps I am not the only one to feel lonely on occasion?”

Reaching out slowly, Merlin found Arthur’s hand in the dark and held it. “Thank you, Arthur. I would like that.”

“Merlin ... perhaps I will, as well,” Arthur said. “I do think of you now as an ally and not a foe, though I confess to still being somewhat sulky-” his mouth twisted at the word choice, even though it was accurate “-about how things have turned out.” He hesitated, but there in the quiet dark felt he might press on. “Merlin, I believe you wanted to ask me to spend my nights with you, but thought you needed to hide that request about asking if I would like it instead.”

Gently petting his thumb over Arthur’s wrist, Merlin sighed softly. “I do not want to make things harder for you, Arthur, that is all. I know our situation is still a tender subject. I want you to have the freedom to come to terms and find your place without being in your way.”

“So yes, I have wanted to ask you to stay with me ... but that’s not helpful to you, it’s only helpful to me.”

“And what of you, Merlin? I do not believe this is easy for you, and I do wish to help you. Is there anything more that can be done to smooth your own path?” Arthur didn’t mind the gentle way Merlin held his hand and stroked over his skin. 

“Nothing other than what we have already discussed. We must be united in our decisions, in our support of each other, and in our actions. That is the only way we can move forward.”

“So, open communication and unity in public,” Arthur said. “And more closeness in private. Yes, I can promise this, Merlin.” He nodded and squeezed his agreement.

“Is there more you want from me, Arthur?” Merlin asked, feeling it was only fair. “What more can I do to make this easier on you?”

“I believe you are doing all that can be done,” Arthur said. “You are a good man, Merlin Emrys. Full proof of my father’s injustice against all magical beings. One thing that would be good for me, beyond the introduction you have made to me of magic is to introduce me to other magic users. I would see all of the variations.”

“Yes, Arthur. Of course.” Merlin said gently, knowing that he could not be the only force of magic in Arthur’s life.

“Perhaps some rudimentary lessons would not be amiss, either,” Arthur said. “I’ve been having Geoffrey gather me some beginning books on magic. We shall see if they do me any good.” 

“After you read them, I would like you to tell me what you think of them, Arthur,” Merlin said gently, curious about Arthur’s perspective. Though had a difficult time thinking that Arthur would be able to use magic.

“I think I will feel very jealous,” Arthur said, “Learning now that magic isn’t evil ... I wouldn’t mind a few of the powers I’ve seen you wield with such ease.” He sobered with the next words. “Hopefully, I’ll be more tolerant of things I don’t understand.” 

“I think you’ve begun to show that already, Arthur. Though ... tolerance is nice ... understanding is better.” Merlin said gently in the dark of their tent. “You don’t have to like everything about magic, but understanding why it exists, why it follows certain rules, and why people use it ... I find that far more valuable.” 

“Well, small steps, right?” Arthur said. “I’m unlearning the lessons of a lifetime. It doesn’t seem fair of you to demand I learn how to fly before I can even walk. Tolerance is a damn sight better than what I had before ... and understanding takes time, especially for someone for whom magic is not simply a wave of the fingertips away.” He wondered how he would have felt if he had been born with even the smallest magical ability. Terrified, probably, once he understood how his father felt about magic. Still, it would have given him an insight. 

Taking his hand away, Merlin used both arms as a pillow and settled in again. As much as he wanted them to get along, some times there was no point in forcing the conversation. Merlin sighed deeply, frustrated that he had no assurance that he was on the right path with Arthur at all. “As you say, Arthur. Good night.”

“Sleep well, Merlin. We will not be up too early tomorrow. We are not on an urgent mission. I will try not to wake you when I leave for my watch,” Arthur said. He turned on his side and tried to settle in for the night. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been finished, and we will post the rest soon!

Arthur had always been fond of Lord and Lady Beauton, who managed the lands to the west of Camelot, some four days ride away. It was their first major stop on the route, and Arthur had introduced Merlin with all due respect and deference to his new husband and future king. They had in turn been more gracious and feted the pair and their group well. An outing to see the surrounding villages and farms was planned for the next day. 

As they feasted, Arthur noted that Lady Beauton leaned in to Merlin and had an expressive, but private conversation with him. He would have paid more attention, but Lord Beauton conversed with him animatedly (and to Arthur’s mind, deliberately) and kept him from being able to note more than that.

So, as they settled into their room for the night, Arthur said, “I hope you liked the Beautons. They have always been kind to me and loyal to Camelot. Their children are both away; the daughter married into a noble family in another kingdom, and the son is serving as a squire to another lord in Camelot.”

“I found the family quite welcoming.” Merlin said, lighting a few candles in the room to provide more light. “Do you know their children well?” Merlin asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
“Not really,” Arthur said. “My father discouraged my getting to know their daughter, as she was not marriage material.” He made a face. “And I am not sure why their son was sent to another lord to squire with. Perhaps he was not skilled enough to become a knight.” He noted the candle lighting, amused internally that Merlin did without thought things that were for servants to perform.

“I believe it might be worth inviting the son to Camelot. First, as a guest. But potentially as someone you might train as a knight. At least, I would like you to consider it.” Merlin said gently as he removed several of his top layers of clothing, setting them aside on a wooden chair that was near the bed.

“I have never objected to his being a squire or knight trainee,” Arthur said, confused by the remark. “I do not even know when I last saw Joseph.” He toed off his second boot, thinking he himself did not conform to the use of servants as they were intended. “Why do you wish me to invite him? You can invite him yourself.”

“Yes, and I might do so. But I want him to feel welcomed by you, Arthur.” Merlin glanced back at Arthur before he explained himself further. “This evening, Lady Beauton confided in me that her son has shown abilities in magic from a young age, and for that reason, they kept him away from Camelot or any service that might reveal him to Uther. They want their son to be safe. I want their son to be safe. And show, there is a place for him, where there wasn’t one before.” 

So that explained the hushed conversation and the way Lord Beauton tried to keep Arthur’s attention away from it. Arthur nodded once and looked away, trying not to feel hurt at the justified caution shown by people he had always thought well of. How relieved they must have been when the Dragonlords overthrew Uther, though they had sent their own warriors to support Camelot.

Arthur stood and strode away from Merlin to the window that overlooked the landscape surrounding the structure. “So, my invitation would show my own good intentions, as well as signal he is safe in Camelot.” He leaned against the wall and nodded once. “Yes, I will do so, as you say. Though he may more importantly need to train with you than with I. We have discussed this briefly before, but I am more convinced than ever that we need to open a school of magic.”

“If it is his wish, I will train and educate him in magic. But it might also be his wish to simply conform as any other noble and serve Camelot in ways he had been unable to in the past. But that is something we cannot know until we meet and speak with him.” Merlin said, pulling back the blankets in the bed as he stretched out his legs and settled under the bedding. Though for now remained sitting up, with his back pressed against the headboard while he spoke with Arthur. “If nothing else, I believe welcoming him will be a sign to others, who have similarly been hiding.”

“It is safe for a magic user to be untrained? I suppose that depends on the level of magic,” Arthur said. “But if a man has shown a talent for magic since childhood, does that not mean he is most likely powerful?” He kept gazing out of the window into the moonlit night. “Conform? Is that what people must do?” He chuckled once and said, “Yes, I suppose we must. You and I, as well. We should welcome him indeed and somehow, make obvious that others should feel welcome. Stil, I suspect we will have many more people speak to you privately before they are willing to expose themselves or their children.”

“This change is still new for many.” Merlin said. “But having me out in the open, meeting people like this, means that I am accessible, and allows me to assure families like the Beauton’s that the members of their family that have magic, are safe from harm.”

“I imagine that the boy has had a difficult time of it, and he, like many others, will have no idea of their true abilities, since they are untrained and have spent their lives hiding any sign of magic, rather then trying to know it better.”

“He is not much younger than we are,” Arthur said, “but yes, to live in fear all your life must be draining and difficult. I shall write my apologies, as well as my invitation. I shall also speak to the Lord and Lady, if you believe they will welcome my words.” He turned now to view Merlin, noting how his husband lounged in bed. “Have you been sleeping well these past few nights?”

Merlin blinked at this change of topic and stared at Arthur for a moment. “Yes, Arthur. Thank you. I have slept well.” He paused, unable to reason why this question had been asked. “Have you been sleeping well? Or is the arrangement still disagreeable to you?” Perhaps that was why he was still standing, and so far from him, Arthur was going to ask to remain separate from him at night. 

“Merlin-” Arthur said and sighed, stepping toward him a few times. “You have the damndest way of making me feel guilty about things I do not wish to feel guilty over. There are enough things that I feel legitimately guilty over.” He paused at the foot of the bed. “I have slept fine. Our travels have not demanded a great deal of me, so I am not exhausted as sometimes I am, but sharing a bed has not been uncomfortable. And we will share at least while we are on the road.”

“Oh.” Merlin looked down and twisted his fingers together in his lap. “It is not my intention, or purpose to make you feel guilty, Arthur.” He sighed quietly, becoming hyper fixated on the fibers in the blanket, which his fingers picked over. “Why did you ask?”

“I do care for your comfort, Merlin,” Arthur said. “And I wish to foster openness between us.” He placed his hands on the foot of the bed. “Are you tired?”

“Thank you, Arthur. I wish for that too.” Merlin said and finally lifted his gaze to look at Arthur at the end of the bed.

“And yet,” Arthur observed mildly, “you did not answer my question.” He waved his hand. “No matter. I was going to invite you for a stroll. I have enjoyed being outdoors and would like a few moments there before I try to rest. However, in something less formal than what we wore to the feast.”

“Oh-“ Merlin breathed out and looked around him, having already prepared for bed. “Yes, Arthur. I will join you, if you are willing to wait a moment.” He said as he pulled the blanket from off his lap and moved to get out of bed.

“I am not fully ready yet, either,” Arthur noted and went to select a more appropriate outfit for a stroll. “I don’t suppose you can help us sneak past the guards? I’d prefer not to be trailed everywhere we go.” He stepped behind one of the privacy screens and pulled on his outdoor gear, including a soft, comfortable pair of boots.

Instead of dressing fully, Merlin pulled on a robe that was average dress for a Dragonlord, and a wizard. For once, Merlin looked like what he was. “Yes, Arthur. I can get us out without an escort, or being noticed.” Merlin assured.

Arthur appeared from around the screen and smiled at his husband’s appearance, though he did not comment. “I am glad to hear so. How shall you sneak us out of here?” He approached without fear, curious as to what Merlin might do.

“It is a sort of magic that allows us to be concealed from the sight of others. We are not invisible, exactly, but if we walk slowly and don’t speak, our presence is imperceptible to others.” Merlin said, offering his hand. “Are you willing to try it?”

“I am more than willing,” Arthur said. “I am quite intrigued. Do you need me to do anything, other than walk slowly and keep quiet?” His eyes were bright with interest and good humor. He was looking forward to escaping for some little time.

“That is all, Arthur. Though if someone passes us in the hall, be careful not to let them bump into you, it may unravel the illusion.” Merlin said and spoke a spell once he had Arthur’s hand. Briefly, it felt like they were under water and a bubble had formed around them, but soon the feeling passed, as they were securely under the spell. With a gesture of his free hand, Merlin directed them to the door and their way out of the castle.

 _And hold your hand_ , Arthur thought with a little internal smile. Still, he kept careful hold of Merlin’s hand, closing the door softly behind them. He did not say a word, not wanting to disrupt the spell. The initial sensation had been a little strange, but now he hoped to pass at least one person so that he might see the spell in action. He squeezed Merlin’s fingers once and gestured toward the stairs with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Merlin nodded slowly and smiled quietly at Arthur, gently squeezing their fingers together. Walking down the stairs, in a pace that Arthur likely found to be unnaturally slow, the two managed as they came to the ground floor, where several maids were still at work, preparing the household for the next day. And though it merely looked like the servants were focused on their work, it would have been customary for them to bow in respect at Arthur and Merlin, walking past them. Which went ignored. 

Arthur nodded approvingly at the non-response and gestured to the guards on either side of the doorway they were approaching. This would be the real test, as they would insist on going with them, which Arthur was hoping to avoid. He glanced once back at the maids, thinking of how little he truly understood of what it took to keep a household running, before they were abreast of the guards.

Confident in his spell, Merlin kept them walking, passing the guards with ease. Though he could see in Arthur’s face the urge to speak and comment on what they were doing. With an unnecessary reminder, Merlin pressed a finger to his own lips, before leading them out into the night. 

Arthur waved at one of the guards after they were safely by and suppressed a laugh, not wanting Merlin to feel the need to remind him yet again to be still. But when they were safely outside in the dark, he made a little jump in the air. “That was amazing, Merlin. They didn’t even flinch as we went by.”

Merlin smiled softly, “I am glad that you enjoyed the experience.” Merlin said as he created a compact ball of light in his hand, which he tossed ahead a few feet, lighting the path before them.

“I can imagine many cases where that will be a useful spell,” Arthur said. “Though can other magic users sense when a spell like that is in use near them or cast some sort of preventative measure?” He headed off toward the fields just beyond the bounds of the castle. He had a yearning for some freedom of space.

“I have not tested it against many others.” Merlin admitted. “However, Kilgharrah is able to see through the magic. There is no sneaking up on him.” He said with a little smile, remembering several failed attempts as a child, thinking he was so clever.

“Dragons are an exception to any rule,” Arthur said with a smile of his own. “I hope they remain always on our side from now on. Facing one as an opponent was terrifying.” He looked over at the ball of light, which floated nearby. “That is also clever.”

“It will always stay a few feet ahead of us as we walk.” Merlin explained, allowing the ball of light to warn them of anything on the ground they might trip over. “Let me know if you want more.”

“No, it’s a pleasant light,” Arthur said. “Not too obtrusive or bright. Though we’d be easy to track by anyone wanting to. The complete opposite of your last spell.” He meandered his way into the fields and was glad they were pasture, much easier to explore than croplands. “Do you have a favorite spell?”

“No, I cannot say that I have a favorite.” Merlin said with a slight shrug, following after Arthur a few steps behind, giving the man his space and freedom. “That’s like asking do I prefer to blink my eyes or stretch out my back ... the magic is a part of me ... I cannot choose one over another.”

Arthur glanced at him and said, “I would much prefer stretching out my back. Blinking does not bring such pleasure, unless there is something that gets out of my eye because of the blink. Still, as you say.” He doubted that he would have been the same way. Some spell would have been his favorite. “Can you fly?” he asked suddenly, thinking of what his favorite spell would be.

“Not without a dragon.” Merlin said with a soft laugh. He paused in the field, enjoying the long grass around his ankles. “Do you want me to show you more magic, Arthur?” He asked, wanting to support his interest in these things.

“Please. If you don’t mind,” Arthur said, though he was disappointed Merlin couldn’t use magic to fly himself. “Anything you want. I have no idea what the breadth of your abilities are.” He found a spot in the middle of the pasture and sat himself down, facing his husband.

“The truth is, I do not fully know my abilities, either. But there are many things I can do.” Merlin said, wanting to impress and delight Arthur with magic, but couldn’t decide on what to show him. “How about something small-“ He said after a moment and raised his hands so that the palms were parallel with the ground. A smooth spell flowed from his lips and glowing white moon flowers began to spring up from the ground, encircling Arthur. 

“They’re perfect,” Arthur said, reaching out to touch one. “Are they real? I mean ... do they vanish after a while or will they grow here if you leave them?” He examined one and asked, “May I pick one?”

Merlin smiled fondly at the question, things that children who were new to magic would often ask. “Yes, they are real. And yes you can pick them. The flowers will continue to exist after we leave here, and will continue through a natural life cycle until they die.” Merlin explained.

“Do they reproduce?” Arthur asked, picking one of the flowers. He inhaled the delicate scent of the petals and shook his head. “Remarkable. These are remarkable. Can you make fauna, as well as flora?” He tucked the flower behind one ear to take with him.

“If the flowers are pollinated, like any other, yes, they will continue to reproduce.” Merlin said and moved a little closer to where Arthur was sitting, and looked around the ground until he picked up a small rock. “Animals are harder ... because unlike the flowers, they are only temporarily real.” He said and knelt in front of Arthur, transforming the rock into a small finch sitting in the palm of his hand. “It’s still a rock, but I am making it look and behave like a bird.”

“Flowers that can populate forever,” Arthur marveled. “I guess I’m glad magic is not that powerful. To create life from nothing ... that would be perhaps too much. Though the way women give birth is something of a wonder to me anyway. How do they manage?”

Merlin gave a small shrug, not wanting to say: sometimes, they don’t. “I cannot say.” Merlin pet the bird on his chest but by the time he put it on the ground, it had turned back into a small rock.

Arthur watched the transformation from rock to bird to rock with wide eyes. “How long can you maintain an animal like that? And is it harder to make a larger creature?” He picked up the rock and tossed it once in the air. “This is amazing.”

“Larger animals are harder.” Merlin admitted. “But small ones, like birds, I can manage for a few hours before becoming fatigued.” Merlin watched Arthur handle the rock, quickly speaking the spell and turned it back into a bird that chirped and landed on Arthur’s knee. “It is far easier to summon an actual, living animal, if one is needed. But sometimes decoys like this are useful too.”

“Oh,” Arthur said with delight and lightly stroked the little bird. “She’s a beauty. What kind of bird is she? And I wouldn’t mind seeing you summon an animal. I promise to be on my best behavior.” He whistled an answer to the bird.

The bird jumped around on Arthur’s knee and chirped again.

“Just a goldfinch.” Merlin said, watching Arthur with a smile, pleased that this was going so well. For a few minutes, Arthur did not appear to be sad. And that’s all he wanted. “Owls and ravens are usually the most agreeable to being summoned ... but this late at night, I could probably get a fox or a badger.”

“Animals have different agreeableness to being summoned?” Arthur asked and stroked over the bird’s throat. “Of course they do. Can you summon people?”

“No-“ Merlin said. “I cannot summon people. The best I can do, is make them suggestible. Not quite the same.” 

“Oh, right, I can see that summoning people would be a bad thing,” Arthur said. “A dark thing. I was thinking more that you could call someone over a long distance. Like ask for someone to come. Not influence minds.” He shuddered at the idea of someone else taking over his thoughts and will. “Is that possible?”

“I can call a dragon to me, but that is not summoning in the same way as we are talking about.” Merlin said. “So- no, I cannot reach out to human minds, call to them in this way. That said however, there are some who can speak to others with psychic abilities. It is a rare thing, that I have only encountered a few times.” 

“I am glad you cannot read my mind,” Arthur confessed. “I am not always pleased with what I think, or how and when I think it. People’s minds should be private. We are not always logical creatures, after all.”

“Yes, Arthur. I understand.” Merlin said with a knowing smile. “Very often it is worth saying the wrong thing in your own mind, so that when it comes the time, you can say the right thing out loud.”

“Can you call any dragon or just specific ones?” Arthur asked. “Are there more than one kind of dragon?” 

“There are many kinds of dragons, all around the world. However, I can only call the ones I know by name. There is a special kind of magic between a dragon, their name, and being able to speak it.” Merlin answered.

“So much of the world is still unknown to me,” Arthur mused, sounding both awed and sad. “I know you can teach me much of magic and I can learn much from the books on Camelot’s library, but is there someone you might find for me as a kind of magical tutor? I have taken so many lessons on so many subjects, and this is one I should add. Start from where you’d teach a child and move on from there.”

It was delightful to hear that Arthur had such an interest and willingness to explore magic. But Merlin tilted his head slightly. "Would you be uncomfortable learning from me?" He asked, though continued before Arthur could answer. "I can find you a tutor, Arthur. However, one might be hard to come by, immediately."

“I am not uncomfortable learning from you, but ultimately, a formal tutor and a formal curriculum will be most useful to make sure I learn as much as possible. As it is, I’m sure I’ll plague you with questions about magic. Random ones. And until we can find a formal tutor, I guess we’ll both have to deal with that.” Arthur nodded his head to his husband, grateful for his forbearance. 

"Many of the Druids believe in teaching anyone with an open heart. I will see if they have someone willing." Any Druid coming into Camelot would be safe under Merlin's protection, but even so, Merlin knew that many of the elder Druids would likely have reservations about coming to Camelot to teach Arthur Pendragon, no less. "Until then, I am happy to share magic with you, husband, and answer all the questions that are within my ability to answer." 

“Than we are in accord, Merlin,” Arthur said with a smile. “I’ll try not to embarrass you too much with my ignorance...or my lingering fears. It’s hard to unlearn the lessons of a lifetime, even now I know they’re wrong.”

"Such change is not an easy thing, husband. But you are brave to be willing to face it." Merlin said. "I am grateful for your trust." He added, though sighed softly as he gave a small nod to the way they had come. He did not say that they should return to the castle and their guest rooms, but it was late, and they should.


	10. Chapter 10

The birds sang distantly to each other, high in the branches of the many old trees that stood, giving shade to the nearby stream. The wind was slightly cool and slightly damp, left over from the rainstorm the night before. Which had made for a sloppy and muddy ride for the horses, who were on a well deserved break. Merlin and Arthur and their escort would rest here for a few hours, take lunch, before pressing on.

In the meantime, Merlin sat with his back against a sturdy tree, eyes closed as he let all parts of nature fill his senses. The tall grass holding onto the warmth of the sun, the tree limbs reaching out to each other and making bridges for small animals to scurry across, and the occasional splash of water as one of the horses stepped into the stream to get a more refreshing drink. 

Arthur kept a watchful eye on the surroundings, taking his turn at the guard post and allowing the others to get their break. Besides, despite the peaceful surroundings and the improved weather, he felt edgy and out-of-sorts without apparent reason. He had for the past few hours of their ride, but nothing had substantiated those feelings yet. 

A wisp of dust caught his attention, and he turned his focus there, narrowing his gaze to try and bring things into focus. “Riders,” he called to the group, aware of how the guards were instantly on their feet and securing their weapons. “Appears to be five of them. Six. There’s one coming in alone from the left. The others are straight ahead. Form up.” He didn’t turn his head from the riders to know that they were taking their places, alert and ready. “Merlin, can you see anything with your magic?”

Getting to his feet, Merlin watched the others respond to the call to arms. They were quick and appeared to know what to do. Arthur had trained them well. "You believe we are in danger?" he asked, unaccustomed to being wary or guarded. But he stood by Arthur as he looked forward, a strange fog quickly weighing in his mind. He frowned and held the side of his own face with one hand, trying to ease the pain he suddenly felt. "That is...unwelcome..." He struggled to make sense of it. "Dark magic."

“Dark magic?” Arthur asked, really concerned now. He gestured for the others to arm, not just make ready, and said, “Merlin, we’ll need your help if you can. Can you tell which one is the dark magic user? Or if all of them are? As you know from experience, the warriors of Camelot are not very good against magic users.”

Merlin frowned, a glow of gold to his eyes. "The one in black. There is something wrong with him." He couldn't tell exactly what it was about him, but it was unnatural. "I will do what I can, Arthur." He had every intention of keeping their people safe, but most of all, protecting Arthur from harm.

But the presence of dark magic raised many questions. Why were they here? Had they been sent against them? With the union between Merlin and Arthur, magic and non-magic, who sought to destroy their peace? What was to be gained?   
Arthur nodded and said, “The single rider is influenced by dark magic. Concentrate on the other five, men, and allow Merlin and myself to deal with him. Stay in formation as much as you can.”

From afar, the five ‘normal’ riders suddenly picked up speed, charging toward the prepared group. The single rider pulled in behind them, horse moving somehow lazily and yet, with strange speed. 

“Be careful, Merlin,” Arthur said softly. “This is not how I want to lose you.”

The words distracted Merlin's focus, they had been sincere and completely unexpected. In that moment, Merlin felt a flutter of hope for friendship and affection for their future. "Nor I you, husband," Merlin said as he removed his cloak, freeing up his arms and hands.

Stepping forward, Merlin stretched out his arms and closed his fists, drawing the magic of nature to his command. As tree roots climbed out of the ground and wove themselves together, starting to form a protective wall around them. But as the rider in black continued to approach, Merlin spoke to the bewitched horse, throwing the creature into a fit as it reared up.

Arthur remembered that trick, but made no comment, even as the first of the riders met them with a howl. He slashed at one as he passed, trusting Merlin to avoid the others, and focused on the last rider, the one whose horse still pitched and bucked to toss him, but to no avail.

“He’s not falling,” Arthur said. “Does he look strange to you, Merlin? Almost like a model of a man, instead of a real one.” He kept his awareness on the periphery, too, pivoting to meet the attack of one of the first riders and driving him to the ground. He spun back when one of their guards came up to finish off the fallen rider.

Such men were possible with dark magic. Hollow vessels, or those whose minds were under the control of another. But Merlin did not have the time to explain this to Arthur. "Why do you come here, rider? Who do you serve?" Merlin asked, his voice focused in such a way that it seemed to echo as if he were speaking into a well. As lean and powerless as Merlin appeared, he had the fierce voice, and heart, of a dragon when he needed one. "I compel you to answer me!"

“I have come to kill thee, Myrddin Emrys, and no mortal creature may stand in my way,” the rider answered in a strange, echoing tone that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, even as he leaped from his still terrified horse, which fled from the scene. “Ruadan compels me to slay the one who would allow the Pendragons to stay on the throne of Camelot.”

“What is that?” Arthur asked, as the strange voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. 

"He is a druid, and sorcerer." Merlin answered quickly, but was clearly disappointed and upset that a druid would rise against him. Though he knew better then to blame all, for the zealot acts of one. Merlin looked to either side of himself, knowing he needed to act quickly to test a theory.

Catching sight of a crossbow bolt that had missed its mark and was now sticking out of the ground, Merlin began to whisper magic into the air, which under different circumstances might otherwise sound like sweet poetry. The bolt removed itself from the ground and with Merlin's urging and direction, shot itself right through the dark knight, traveling through his chest as cleanly as a needle and thread through fabric.

The creature of dark magic did not fall.

In that moment, Merlin knew that even if he sent a hundred arrows through the man, it would never die. "That's a problem," he whispered to himself. 

“Uh, Merlin,” Arthur said, as the knight didn’t even seem to notice the wound. He raised his sword, even as the knight charged them both without a sound. Arthur stepped forward into his swing and nearly went tumbling at the force of the blow that met him. His feet skidded several inches on the grass, but he met the next blow as he would from any knight more powerful than himself, not allowing the use of greater strength to throw him off. “Tell me what’s going on, Merlin!” he yelled, angling to keep himself between his sorcerer husband and their attacker. 

"You won't be able to kill him, not with mortal weapons!" Merlin instantly knew what he needed to do, but there was no time for it. Planting his feet, Merlin took a deep breath. What he was about to do would be difficult, risky, but necessary. "I can get him off you for only a moment, you must come to me-" He began to explain, summoning a ring of fire around himself. "Stand with me, within the flame. You must do this, Arthur." Merlin said as the clear skies overhead turned dark, and storm clouds turned in tight circles overhead, becoming angrier with the rumble of thunder. 

Arthur felt, rather than saw, the gathering storm and knew what was coming. He’d had it used against him. He pushed for some small advantage against the magical opponent, enough to get him some space to go to his husband. Finally, he pulled a trick Leon had taught him years ago, something only an untrained knight might fall for, But the awkward, flailing strike for the dark knight’s legs did indeed trip him up just enough to allow Arthur to turn and flee into the ring. He whirled back around, staying within the protective circle to check on the status of their men. He grimaced at the sight of three of them fallen, and the last two battling one remaining attacker. “Run!” he yelled at them. “Run for help!”

The dark knight began to stalk toward them again, unphased by anything going on around him (or at him).

A strike of lightning crashed down into the dark knight, throwing him several hundred feet away. It would have been enough to kill any other, but not this creature of dark magic. It would only delay him for a while. And that was what Merlin needed.

The lightening was followed by a flash of bright light, which seemed to freeze the world around them. Arrows stopped in mid-air, horses that had reared up, remained on their hind legs, and even the sounds of battle themselves were muted, completely suspended in time. All except for Merlin and Arthur, within the circle of fire.

"Place your blade into the ground, husband. I cannot explain. You must be quick." It was dangerous what Merlin was doing, and tapped into every bit of magic the sorcerer knew to use.

Arthur blinked, but quickly did as bade, setting his sword before him. He kept a wary eye on their adversary, who was already picking himself up off the ground as if he hadn’t just been struck by lightning. But he also saw their one remaining guard mount up and ride off, as ordered, hopefully to find help. “I have so many questions,” he muttered, knowing now was not the time.

"I know, Arthur," Merlin said as he lowered himself to one knee and placed a hand on the hilt of his blade. "And this is not how I wanted to present you with such a gift," he said, eyes flashing gold as he calmly spoke to the sword as if it were alive. Gold ribbons of magic began to twist around the blade and began to engrave the metal with magic. And to seal the power within, Merlin kissed the flat of the blade before he looked up to Arthur. "You can destroy any being with this blade, husband. Even a creature of dark magic, like this one. Do not allow anyone else to wield it. It is my gift to you, alone," Merlin said, looking exhausted as the circle of fire died down around them, having put a great deal of his own power and magic into the sword. 

Arthur darted his attention between husband and opponent, noting how much closer the dark knight was getting to them with every passing second. And just as the fire died, he seized the new sword and swung it to meet the blow of the dark knight. This time, the two swords met with a ringing clang that pushed both Arthur and the dark creature back a step.  
“Right, magic sword,” Arthur murmured. “Thank you, Merlin. Try to stay out of the way.”

“You will die, Emrys,” the dark knight said again and went for Merlin.

Arthur moved into the way, wielding his improved blade with all of his skill. Their swords tangled and clashed, throwing sparks into the air around them. Arthur danced and parried, thrust and circled. And each move was countered by his powerful opponent, who never tired, never slowed. But for all that Arthur was only a man and knew he’d left openings for the knight, he was not the target of any lethal attacks. Because he was not the target. 

"We will all die, in time. Even you, creature of dark magic." Merlin kept himself back from the fight, needing to trust that Arthur would protect him while he regained his energy. Merlin staggered to the nearest tree and pressed a hand against the bark, leaning heavily into it to keep himself grounded. This was not how he had seen this day unfold. Not that he had foreseen these events, even with all his time within the crystal cave. 

Arthur circled the monstrosity, looking for an opening, a hole in its defenses. He ducked a swing and managed to nick the left arm of his opponent.

The creature let out a horrible moan as the newly magicked sword sliced through armor and flesh...dead, disgusting flesh.

Arthur gagged at the sudden scent of putrefaction and barely avoided a slash that would have taken off his head. His opponent was suddenly more ferocious, now that Arthur had proved he could hurt him. “What is this thing, Merlin? It smells...dead.”

"It is dead." Merlin answered. "It is a Wraith. Someone who was once living, died, and has now been revived to this cursed state to serve one purpose. It is a form of necromancy, and it is a terrible thing to do." Merlin said, sorry that Arthur had to experience this dark magic, when Merlin was only trying to show him the good magic could do. "It will only stop, when it has fulfilled its purpose. To kill me." Merlin gathered his strength as much as he could, knowing he did not have the luxury to rest for much longer. But Arthur was in danger and would not be able to fight the creature indefinitely.

"You are a cursed creature, you should have remained dead!" Merlin said, using his magic to push the black knight off Arthur. 

“Gross,” Arthur murmured, grateful for the brief respite from the attack. He lunged himself, trying to take advantage of the momentary stumble. His sword scraped the edge of the wraith’s blade and lodged hard and fast in the creature’s shoulder. More ghastly odor and another moaning noise from the Wraith, who lashed out with his free hand, catching Arthur in the face and sending him sprawling. The sword remained lodged in his shoulder.

Without hesitation, the Wraith lurched forward again, no longer as sturdily, but just as determined, toward Merlin. His target now acquired and free of distraction, the creature now lifted its sword.

Arthur rolled back to his feet and yelled, “Run, Merlin!” even as he charged after the Wraith.

"I will not leave you to fight this thing alone, husband." Merlin said, standing his ground. He had no skill with the sword, but as the creature charged, he braced himself by wrapping both hands around the tilt of the sword, driving it further into the dead flesh until the entire arm was severed from his body. But it came at a cost, as the Wraith was allowed close enough to skewer Merlin in the side with his cursed blade, leaving the young sorcerer in a state of shock as the dark magic attempted to overtake him.

“Merlin! No!” Arthur screamed, voice echoing all around them. He seized the sword which had fallen from the Wraith’s body   
along with its arm and halved the creature with a blow accompanied by a roar of fury. He barely noted the fall and disintegration of the Wraith, grabbing the evil sword that injured Merlin and tossing it away. “Merlin! How can I help you?” He tore at the clothes, trying to find the wound so he could tend to it.

"I can-" Merlin struggled, slowly falling to his knees, then to the ground, as he simply did not have the energy to stand. "I must fight it with magic." Merlin said, eyes glowing gold as he attempted to look down at himself. The puncture mark left by the cursed sword left black lines on his skin like spider webs, attempting to spread out and claim more of his body.

Arthur caught Merlin and helped ease him to the ground. He continued his attempt to remove the clothes around the stab wound, wincing at what he saw. “Can you fight it sufficiently, Merlin?” he asked, worry deep in his tone. “It’s awful deep...and what are those lines?” But he knew, even as he said it...magic. The same black magic that had carried the undead Wraith forward to kill his new husband.

He fought the panic inside him, falling back on the battlefield medicine he did know, ripping off a chunk of tunic to press against the wound and slow the bleeding. “We need help, Merlin.”

"I ... I am not very strong right now, but I can do it-" Merlin said, not wanting to admit it was a struggle, since there was nothing Arthur could do about it. His eyes shifted to gold several times in a row as he attempted to heal himself, though none of it had any apparent effect. "Ugh-" Merlin groaned and took several deep breaths before trying again.

“Merlin?” Arthur whispered, noting the way his eyes were flickering. “Is there nothing I can do? Some way you can take power or strength from me? Please.” He hated this helpless feeling, seeing the dark lines spread over his husband’s skin, the magical poison struggling. “Please!” And this time his voice cracked and came out louder. 

Merlin looked up at Arthur, and gave him an affectionate, relaxed smile. "I will not take your life force, Arthur, not a single breath of it ... please, just stay with me ... that will be enough." Merlin pressed his hand over the wound and attempted another kind of magic, managing to draw out a little of the blackness, though it stuck to his fingertips like tar, and that small success had been very exhausting for him. 

“Merlin,” Arthur murmured and scooted as close as possible to him. He looked in the direction their lone remaining guard had gone, hoping to see him return with help. No such luck, and his gaze went back to his injured spouse. His king. “If taking my lifeforce will help you heal, then do so,” he ordered. “That will be better than watching you perish before me helplessly.” He stroked through his husband’s brown hair, concerned by the sweat on his brow, his obvious tiredness.

"It will be alright, Arthur-" Merlin said, lightly closing his eyes a few times, trying to conserve his energy so that he could heal himself.

The forest was still for a few minutes. The earth itself seemed to be holding its breath, waiting to see if Merlin would live or die. Until the leaves rustled in a sudden, strong wind, which was followed by a light bellowing call. The white dragon Aithusa had landed in an opening among the trees and cautiously approached, head low. He looked between Merlin, the Dragonlord that had called him into the world, and Arthur, the man that had called to his heart.

"Arthur." The dragon rumbled, head tilt to the side. 

Arthur stared at the magnificent creature, mouth open, for a moment, before he blurted, “Please, help us. Merlin. He’s taken a wound from a Wraith’s blade. His magic isn’t enough to save him. Can you do anything? I beg you. I will give anything, do anything you ask if you’ll help him. I’m useless, but I offer my life to you for his.” He basically prostrated himself in front of the mighty creature.

"Arthur." The dragon, who was not much larger than two horses side by side, leaned in and rubbed his head against Arthur's shoulder like a very affectionate cat. "I follow your command." He said, and blew out a soft swirl of smoke through his nose. "I shall take him to his father, and to the Dragonlord healers. They will do what we cannot."

“My command?” Arthur murmured, but shook off his confusion to focus on what matters. “Thank you, my friend. Please, do hurry. I will return to Camelot and deal with my father. He is responsible for this attack.” His face turned a shade angry around his concern. He stood and took a step away from Merlin to give the dragon room. But he looked down at his husband. “I will see you again, Merlin,” he promised. “When you are well. Take care of yourself. And I will take care of Camelot in your stead.”

"Husband-" Merlin said, not wanting to be separated, not wanting to let go of the other man. But he was in no position to make such decisions, as he barely clung onto consciousness as it was.

Aithusa stretched out his wings, and taking Merlin up into his claws, took to the sky. Each push of his wings harder then the last, cutting through the air with strength and growing speed. 

Arthur watched them out of view, adding his prayers to whomever may have been watching over them all that Merlin reached help in time. And then, he straightened himself and seized first his own sword, which he examined for a moment in quiet wonder, before sheathing it, and then the sword of the Wraith. He spared its remains but a moment’s frown of distaste before heading for where his faithful men lay dead where they’d fallen defending their king and his consort. He set aside his weapons and began arranging them for a proper burial, trusting that his lone faithful survivor would return as quickly as possible with help. 

And after, Arthur had an urgent appointment with his treacherous father, who would learn the cost of betrayal was his throne, if not his life.  
~~~~~~~~

Aithusa called out as he cut through the thick clouds that concealed the highland mountains, home to the Dragonlords and the other dragons. His call was a warning and mournful and pleading all at once. His white wings blended in with the clouds, making him almost completely unseen, until the moment he landed, placing Merlin carefully on the ground. He chittered his concern for Merlin, but did not speak to him.

Balinor and Kilgharrah heard the call and hurried to the site where Aithusa had landed. “Merlin!” Balinor yelled and rushed to his side. “Kilgharrah, please, fetch our best healers.” He barely paid the dragon mind as he flew off, focus all on his son. “Merlin, my boy, what has happened?” His hand was already over the grievous wound, as he added his powers to stop the spreading blackness from the blow. “Who has done this to you!?”

"Father." Merlin breathed a sigh of relief, having enough presence of mind to recognize him. "A Wraith." He answered, though his head slowly lulled to the side as he opened his eyes, looking for something that seemed just out of sight to him. "Where is Arthur?"

“A Wraith,” Balinor said, holding on to his temper, as well as his fear, as he focused his magic on his son. “Only a powerful magic user could make a Wraith.” He raised his gaze to Aithusa. “And my son asks a good question, where is his husband, Aithusa? Where is Arthur Pendragon!?”

Aithusa snorted at Balinor as he drew his head back. Though meant to be a good omen, the white dragon was young, and often acted like a brat. He was a dragon that had yet to bond himself to a Dragonlord. He did not have the magic or wisdom like Kilgharrah, that would come in time. "I could only carry one. And Arthur commanded me to help him. So I have brought him to you."

“Commanded?” Balinor said. “He commanded you? Arthur Pendragon?” He felt his focus slip, swore and dropped his attention back to his son. “So, he is not responsible for this outrage?” he asked, keeping his voice calmer. The black lines of magic were slowly receding, though he would need the healers to truly mend Merlin. The magic behind a Wraith was truly grim and powerful.

Aithusa tilted his head to the side. "Arthur's heart cried out in pain, I was compelled to answer," he said, not knowing how else to explain the power the man had over him. This was the first time he had ever felt connected in such a way to a mortal before.

"He was protecting me, father," Merlin said, needing to speak this truth, before Balinor jumped to further conclusions. 

“Arthur Pendragon is a Dragonlord,” Balinor said solemnly. “Perhaps, my son, the nature of all your prophecies are not as much hogwash as I believed.” He blew out a low sigh. “How are you feeling, Merlin? The others should be but a few moments more.”

"I do not feel strong ... I did not have the strength to heal myself," Merlin said, expressing some shame and disappointment in himself. He was meant to be this powerful sorcerer, but had been unable to save himself. 

“The magic in a Wraith is no small thing, my son,” Balinor soothed. “A wound such as this...that you are still alive is proof of your power.” He heard more wings and called, “We are here! Merlin needs assistance.”

Several healers came at a run and knelt beside their king and his son.

“He has been wounded by the blade of a Wraith, summoned by powerful magic,” Balinor said, even as they raised their hands to assist, already chanting a healing spell in unison. He looked up at Aithusa again, allowing himself to pull back and let the healers work. “Now, Aithusa, please tell me all you know of what happened.”

Aithusa sat back on his haunches, wings folding in close to his sides. "I only know, I felt Arthur's heart in mine, calling out to me. It guided me, until I found him. There were many dead. And Arthur held Merlin in his arms. He wanted to see Merlin saved." The dragon clenched his feet and claws into the ground. Now that he was bonded to Arthur, he did not like being this far away from him. The experience was far too new and confused him. He was feeling emotions that were not his own, and yet, now they were. 

“You know what this means, Aithusa,” Balinor said. “You have bonded to my son’s husband, Arthur Pendragon. Do you wish to speak with Kilgharrah before you return to him, for return to him you must?” He knew he would need to spend some time dealing with the knowledge that the son of Uther Pendragon was a Dragonlord, had bonded with a dragon Merlin loved. But now was not the time.

Kilgharrah had attempted to give Aithusa many life lessons since his birth, though like any child, rarely listened to them. And now was not much better. He was a teenager and felt he knew better, that he didn't need guidance. "I only want to be with Arthur and soothe his heart."

“Then go to him in safety, my friend,” Balinor said. “When he is well enough, Merlin and I shall return to Camelot with Kilgharrah. You may find you need his experience then, as may your new companion. Arthur Pendragon knows nothing of being a Dragonlord.” He shook his head in rueful amusement at the thought of the new Dragonlord with his child dragon. The two would be a mess.

Aithusa gave a small huff before he turned and stretched out his wings again. Taking to the clouds with ease as he quickly flew off, wanting only to be close to Arthur now. 

Balinor watched him for only a moment, before turning back to watch the healers working on Merlin. He was relieved to see his son appeared much better, color improved and the black lines fully receded back into the wounds. He knew then that everything would be alright, even if it would take some time for Merlin to be well enough to return to Camelot. And before he did, Balinor swore he would know what exactly had happened and who had dared to attack his son.  
“How fare you, Merlin?”

"Better, father." Merlin answered with a little smile, trying to reassure him. "Exhausted still, but not in pain." He looked to each of the healers in turn, thanking each of them. "Today was ... unexpected." 

“Can you tell me what happened?” Balinor asked, even as he knelt back by his son’s side. “If he is well enough?” He looked to the healers for an answer.

“If he is careful not to tire himself, Sire,” the lead healer said. “We have a few more moments to fully remove the poison black magic from his body. But you may speak as we do.”

Balinor nodded his thanks, eyes gleaming with moisture. “Thank you.” He looked back to Merlin and placed a gnarled hand on his closest uninjured piece. “My son. I am so glad you will be well. I could not lose you.”

"We have been on the road these last three weeks, visiting the homes of nobles and the smaller villages that lie within Camelot's borders. We were taking a rest on the road ... my mind was adrift-" As it often was. "I wasn't aware of any unnatural force until it was in our face," Merlin said, disappointed in himself for not sensing the trouble that had been set upon them. He had been too at ease, too relaxed with his new life with Arthur.

"Arthur noticed something awry on the horizon, alerting our escort, who rose to our defense. We were attacked by several soldiers, but the Wraith came for us ... for me." Merlin bent his arm so that he could hold his father's hand. "Arthur defended me, but could not kill the creature until I enchanted his sword with magic."

“So, you gave him his enchanted sword,” Balinor said softly. “Do you know who sent the Wraith, Merlin? Who would dare use magic against the one fated to be the most powerful wizard of all?” He was glad for Arthur’s attention, when his son’s had wandered. Perhaps they could make this work out in the end.

"The Druid Ruadan created the Wraith." Merlin said with open sorrow. "I do not know why he would hate me so much, to send such a dark creature after me. I have only ever received support from the Druids in the past. It hurts to think that my influence in Camelot is somehow undesirable to them."

“There must be more to it than that,” Balinor said. “We have ever been a friend to the Druids, tried to shelter them when they were refugees from other lands. But there is your destiny that they like to bandy about, how you will usher in the great King, a Pendragon. Even I have difficulty with that sometimes. Perhaps this one’s anger at the Pendragons is enough to make him hate that one with magic would support any of them.” He shook his head sadly at the idea.

"If that is the case, I do not want a failed attempt on me to become an attempt on Arthur." Merlin said, glancing to the side. "He has Aithusa now..." he said, only now piecing together that the white dragon had come to Arthur's side. "But that is not enough   
to protect him. Will you send someone else, father? Please. For me."

Balinor frowned and asked, “Why not your friend, Gwaine? I hesitate to send more of our warriors to Camelot. However, I will send a messenger to make sure those that remain keep a closer eye on your husband. Where is he now?”

"Gwaine is in Camelot." Merlin answered. "And Arthur is alone on the road. We were traveling along the western border." 

Balinor nodded a few times and said, “I will send dragonriders to trail him home and look out for his welfare. He need never know about the tail, unless there are attackers. Then they can swoop in to carry him to safety. And I’ll send word to Gwaine to join Arthur on his journey, as well. I’ll let him know your condition, as well, so that Arthur will also know.” 

"Thank you, father." Merlin said, trusting that it would be done. It would allow him some peace of mind while he recovered. And though the healers did an excellent job, he was in no position to push himself. He would have to be patient for a few days, gather his strength, before entertaining the idea of travel and standing strong at Arthur's side again. 

Balinor offered Merlin an arm and said, “Can you hobble with assistance, my son? Kilgharrah will carry us home. You can sleep in a field with the rest of us. Your old kind of bed.” 

With Balinor's help, Merlin got to his feet. He didn't want to admit it, but he missed his life with the dragons and the other dragonlords. He missed the companionship, and he missed the freedom of being who and what he was, without regard to how others saw him. But as happy as it made him to sleep under the stars with a horde of dragons, he knew that his new life with Arthur and Camelot was more important. "I'm sorry to have worried you, father. I did not think to have come back so soon. And in such condition." 

“My son, I am just glad you will be well,” Balinor said. “And from what you have told me, your husband has much improved from when I met him. Perhaps there’s hope for your union beyond the building of Camelot. His care for you called Aithusa to him. And as a Dragonlord, he has some portion of magic in his own right. A lot of learning to do, as well.” He led Merlin toward the Great Dragon.

Kilgharrah turned his head as Merlin approached and reached out with his snout, not quite daring to touch the young man. “Your recovery makes my heart gladdened,” he said. “You gave us all a scare, being brought in by young Aithusa.”

Merlin reached up and pressed the flat of his hand on the front of Kilgharrah's warm nose, enjoying his familiar company. "It was a surprise to me." Merlin said gently, trying not to sound envious. He was after all, a Dragonlord without a dragon, and suspected he always would be. "I am happy that Arthur will have this connection to magic, and I am happy for Aithusa, too." 

“As I am happy you are partnered with one who will now more fully understand magic and its connection to the world,” Kligharrah rumbled. “Now, come, you are weary, and I will take you to where you may rest.” He knelt lower to help Merlin climb on his back.

"Thank you, brother." Merlin said as he used a few of the smaller spikes along Kilgharrah's shoulder as a hand hold, climbing up onto his back.  
~~~~~~~~

Arthur stood on the battlements of Camelot and watched the skies for signs of Merlin’s return. He had received the letter from his husband a few days before, saying Kilgharrah would be carrying him home, fully recovered from his injuries.

He would be returning to a very different Camelot from the one he left. Upon his return, Arthur confronted his father in a torrent of anger. And won. With a small escort of men he knew would both see his father safely to his palace of retirement and prevent his return, Arthur banished him from the throne and Camelot proper. He would spend his remaining days alone and considering the rashness of his life. Arthur might someday visit him, but not until his own anger was well cooled.  
With the king’s departure, the return of magic sped up a thousandfold, as the people trusted their new regent, the one who would lead until the return of the Dragonlord, Merlin. And many loved Arthur well in his own right, for deeds done even during the reign of Uther.

The knights were a larger group again, ranks beginning to add folks from the common people, as well as those with magic. Arthur trained them hard, but looked for guidance with magic from Gaius and others with knowledge of the arts.   
Not that he wasn’t trying to learn, spending several hours in the evening pouring over the history of magic and its very uses in Camelot. He also studied the laws that governed magic before all of it was outlawed by his father. It was quite illuminating, but also very complicated. And he hesitated to instate much of it without the true king.

Merlin. 

He smiled as the Great Dragon became visible in the far distance, but growing larger with every flap of his wings.

As Merlin flew over the countryside, he got to enjoy a privileged sight, shared only with the birds, and dragons. He saw farmers and their families working in the fields, preparing for harvest that was nearly a month away. He saw deer clearing the stone walls that kept sheep and pigs domesticated. And he saw the micro patterns of people walking through the lower town market, going about their lives.

On the surface, everything looked the same as when Merlin and Arthur had left it. But under it all, in small and subtle ways, there was a collective sigh of relief and happiness that had not been there before.

Arthur had made a choice on behalf of all Camelot, and the future of its people. He chose to protect Merlin, and by doing so, protect the influence of magic within the kingdom. 

Arthur hurried down the steps and through the gates, into the open fields before the castle, to greet the returning king. He felt the guards behind him without needing to turn to acknowledge their steady presence. He waved to the man on his back with a smile.

“Aithusa! He called. “Aithusa, Merlin is home!”

Unable to be inside the castle with Arthur, Aithusa had taken to perching himself on the roof. But whenever the young man came outside, the white dragon would swoop down and trot after him on foot like a little puppy.

As Merlin slid off Kilgharrah's shoulders, he found that it was very easy to smile, at the sight of seeing Arthur again. "Hello,   
husband. You look well."

“As do you, I’m pleased to say,” Arthur replied with a warm smile for his husband. He reached out with both arms to clasp Merlin by the shoulders and shake him gently. “It’s been too long, and the people long for their king so they may know him at last.” He looked into Merlin’s open gaze a moment, before turning to Kilgharrah and bowing. “And thank you, Great Dragon, for bringing him safely home.”

Kilgharrah rumbled once and lightly bumped Arthur with his snout, knocking him back a step. “Prince Pendragon, thank you for your protection of Merlin. You saved him...and became what you were meant to be, a Dragonlord. You have much to learn.” He looked at Aithusa and snorted. “As does your dragon.”

Aithusa puffed up his chest in an attempt to look larger. What did he have to learn? He was a dragon! He was perfect just the way he was. No learning required. He nuzzled his face into Arthur's back to help keep him upright.

"You've made some difficult decisions recently, Arthur. Among those decisions, I am pleased that you have decided to stay,   
instead of follow your father into exile," Merlin said. "This is where you are needed. You belong here." 

Arthur laughed a little at being pushed and supported by a dragon on either side. He reached back to rub at Aithusa’s snout, already very fond of the white dragon. “I am sure I do,” he said. “And I, for one, would be most grateful for some lessons.” He turned his eyes back to Merlin. “From you both, on what it means and what it takes to be a Dragonlord.” He made a face. “It sounds so strange to say.”

“And of course I didn’t go with him, Merlin. He left in disgrace, and you were still well from being healed. In the future, I shall wish to see him again, but not for some time. My anger is deep at him, for betraying us both. That he so nearly succeeded…” He firmed his chin and shoulders. “I could no longer allow him to keep his throne or title.”

"You chose to protect me, and show me loyalty, Arthur." Merlin said gently, not taking such things for granted. He leaned in and kissed his cheek, before pulling back, knowing more would be unwelcome. "Thank you."

Arthur touched his cheek, blinked once at Merlin and then leaned in to press his own kiss softly to Merlin’s lips. “Of course, husband. It was the least I could do for you. Do you require anything, Great Dragon, before I escort Merlin inside?”

“Indeed not. Aithusa and I will be quite comfortable in the fields in front of the castle at this time of year. And he can tell me tales of you.” The dragon bowed his head to them both.

Arthur bowed back and offered an arm to Merlin. “Shall we?”

Merlin glowed with delight, letting it fill his eyes, and blush his cheeks without shame. "Yes, husband," he said, hooking his arm with the true king of Camelot to stroll back into the castle and begin together the true work of bringing the Golden Age to the land.


End file.
